The day was met with dusk, and the Sacred Order was bathed in a gentle amber glow.
Lanterns were lit one by one along the winding paths and bridges, their mellow light reflecting across streams and polished stones. From afar came the quiet murmur of distant voices, whilst the city itself seemed to breathe in a calmer, more reverent rhythm.
The attendant had earlier brought Kyva a simple meal, which she had received with sincere gratitude. Snowpuff, however, remained as obstinate as ever– turning his head sharply away from the offered bowl, his small muzzle set in unmistakable disdain.
Kyva had thought of it, assuming him merely fussy and dramatic, unaware that the fox had no true need of food and would sooner go without that than accept being fed from an animal bowl.
