Lomi ran around me, huffing loudly as she wore herself out.

The snow was starting to get packed, especially this far up the mountain, so she wasn't running as quickly as she had been the day before. It took her many seconds to round me, and some effort to walk in the snow.

She tripped, most likely over something buried in the snow. She landed face first, and her hat fell off which revealed her auburn ears.

Watching her, I waited a moment before saying anything. Sure enough, her head popped up out of the snow and showed a happy face as she laughed. “A rock!” she said, as if it was a new friend.

With a sigh, I wondered how she had so much energy. “You alright?” I asked.

“Yup!” she returned to her feet, and grabbed her hat. Wiping the top of her head clean of snow, I watched the way her ears twitched. “I've never been this way,” she said.

“I'd hope not. Over this mountain is a large forest, where our friends are... but this mountain is neither their territory or yours,” I said.

“Whose is it?” she asked, jubilant. Was she going to return to running around?

“A large cat. Bigger than me. It's also very rude,” I said.

“Oh? One of us?” she asked, excited.

“Ah... no. This cat is a real animal. Not like us,” I said, I should have been more specific earlier.

“Oh...” she hesitated, and no longer looked as if she wanted to run around anymore.

“It will leave us alone. It doesn't like me much,” I said to her, wondering if she was worried.

Lomi smiled at me, and stepped closer. I noticed the way she had to step high to walk through the snow. She wasn't used to it.

“Here,” I stepped towards her, and she didn't hesitate in allowing me to pick her up.

Putting her on my shoulder, I huffed and picked up the pace. I was going to use this moment as much as I could. She had refused my offer of help not too long ago, which had slowed us down quite a bit.

“Why doesn't the cat like you, Vim?” Lomi asked, her voice sounded a little odd coming from above me.

“I chopped off a part of its tail once,” I said.

Lomi stiffened, and I wondered if she related. She didn't have a tail, as far as I knew, but that didn't mean she didn't take offense to such a thing like many of our kind did.

“Why?” she asked further.

“To stop it from doing something bad. It was my last attempt to convince it to leave the group I was with alone. I'm glad it worked, or else I'd have chopped more than a tail,” I said.

“Oh... how much of its tail did you chop off?” she asked, still intrigued.

“Uh...” I tried to remember. It was quite some time ago. “About half,” I said, after a moment of thought.

“Wow... did you eat it?” she then asked.

“The tail?” I asked, glancing up at her.

She nodded with expectant eyes.

“No. Tails are mostly bone. At least, cat tails are.”

Lomi giggled, and I wondered if it was because she found it odd I'd even consider such a thing.

Trudging through the snow, I was glad she had finally allowed me to carry her. We had made more progress in the last few minutes than we had in thrice as many. Though that wasn't just because of her inability to traverse through the heavy snow, but also because she had been playing around and got distracted often.

It was odd how she was so similar to a fox. Inquisitive and playful, almost to the point of annoyance.

Our kind weren't always so similar to what we resembled.

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“Who are we meeting? The ones in the forest?” she asked a new question, abandoning the cat.

“Elks. Or at least that's what they call themselves. There's a family... or herd? Of a dozen in the forest south of Klantor. We'll stop there before heading into town,” I said.

“Elks? The deers?” she asked.

“A type, yes.”

“Do they have horns?” she asked.

“No. But their teeth are a little... odd. You'll notice and see, when we meet them,” I said.

“Teeth? Of all things it's their teeth that are different?” she asked, amused.

“Sometimes it's something like that. Yours are just ears, Lomi. You don't even have a tail do you?” I asked.

“Mommy said her parents all cut off their tails, which is why we don't have any,” she said. I noticed how easily she spoke of her mother.

“Did they?” I asked, and wondered how true it were. A part of me said it made no sense, nor could, yet...

Yet for us, maybe it could.

“That and your hair is a little thick, isn't it?” I said, remembering. Her hat couldn't cover it all up.

“Is it?” she asked, worried.

Choosing to switch conversations, lest I made her self-conscious, I pointed to the mountain in the distance before us. “See that mountain?” I asked her.

“The white one?”

“That's Snowfall. The highest mountain not just in these parts, but really anywhere for some distance,” I said.

“Oh? How much higher is it than this one?” she asked.

“Probably ten times the size. The snow is just now starting to stack here, yet look at that one. Already entirely white,” I said.

Lomi hummed as she studied the far off mountain, and I was glad the change in topics had worked.

It's only been three days since I had found her in that well. It took her only one to stop crying, and by the second she had smiled again.

Was it just because of her age, or was she simply doing her best, I wonder?

Even for our kind, children weren't usually so... capable. In fact I've known many children who remained so for much longer than a human would. There was a young boy in one of our societies villages in the south, who still looked and acted like a young child even though old enough to be a grandfather. Probably something to do with his heritage. Turtles were said to live a long time.

“Is it named snowfall just because it has snow fall on it?” she asked, and I was surprised she was still focused on that mountain.

“No. A long time ago a massive avalanche destroyed a huge city. Killed thousands of people. The snow fell so fast and hard, that it shook the world. It's been called that since,” I said.

“Huh...” she went into thought, and I glanced at a nearby owl. There weren't that many trees up here, but it was perched on one of the biggest.

It glared at us in a way that told me that was its home. It wanted us away from it. Though it might just be because it smelled the one on my shoulder. Foxes hunted such things, after all.

“Hungry yet?” I asked her.

“No.”

“Let me know when you get hungry,” I reminded her again.

“Is that owl following us?” she asked.

Looking up, I watched the large wings flap as it flew around us. “For now,” I said.

The snow shifted beneath me for a moment as I studied the bird. It looked far larger up there, in the sky, than it had perched on the tree.

“Can I stay with the deer people?” she then asked me.

Blinking, I turned my head enough to look at her. Her red eyes glistened as they stared at me, and I realized she was not as childish as I had thought her.

“No. Unless you desperately want to. To the west of here, a few weeks away, is a farming village. There is a family of your kind there, amongst a few others of our kind. I'll be taking you there,” I said to her.

“A fox family?” she asks.

I nodded.

“Why didn't they live with us?” she asked, and I wondered if it was childish curiosity or something deeper. Something wiser.

“They are very good friends with another family, a pair of snakes. They chose to settle down together, in the same location. I'm sure they've met your family before, long ago, but they were... or are, just happier where they are at,” I explained.

“Oh... Is it safe?” she asked.

“Actually it is. It's not far from a large city. They're far enough to be ignored and peaceful, but close enough that no humans ever doubt their existences. It's odd how it works, but it does,” I said. I myself didn't care much for their methods, but honestly it was better than most.

If our kind wanted to survive... we needed to adapt. To become more than what we were. To be more than basic animals.

I wasn't going to say such a thing to this little girl though.

“I see,” she whispered, and returned to staring up at the owl which continued to follow us.

Hopefully it'd not follow us for too long. I didn't fear any kind of hunter or pursuer, but anyone for miles could track us because of it.

“It will still be your choice, Lomi. If you don't like it there, I'll take you elsewhere... and again and again, until you find a place to call home,” I said gently.

Lomi looked back down at me, and smiled. A sad one, which reminded me she had just lost her home in one of the most painful ways possible.

“I failed you once, Lomi. I'll not do so ever again,” I promised her.

She blinked, and I noticed the single tear that fell because of it.

I nodded again, vowing it not just to her... but onto my soul. Or at least, what was left of it.

“I promise.”