The first rays of the sun pierced through the tree leaves and landed directly on my eyelids, like tiny fingers of light determined to ruin my rest. I blinked, confused, fighting against the drowsiness that still enveloped me.
And then I noticed something strange.
I was... heavy. Not heavy like after a big meal, but heavy as if something was preventing me from moving. Something big. Something furry. Something that was snoring.
I opened my eyes fully and turned my head slightly.
I was lying on Larry's stomach.
Yes. Larry. The giant wolf who had spent the first week trying to kill me. That Larry. His enormous belly rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, and there I was, using a prehistoric predator as a mattress.
"This is... new," I whispered, not daring to move.
But that wasn't what made my heart race.
What made my heart race was what I saw beside me.
Lumine was lying just inches away from me. She slept peacefully, her face relaxed in an expression of complete serenity. Her white hair spread out like a halo around her head, and her golden wings were partially unfolded, covering us both like a blanket of luminous feathers.
My heart skipped a beat.
Calm down, Sunny — I told myself — She's just sleeping. She's a Celestial. It doesn't mean anything.
But my heart wasn't listening to reason.
For a moment, I just watched her. In the soft morning light, she looked even more beautiful. Her lips curved slightly in an unconscious smile, as if she were dreaming of something pleasant. Her wings moved softly, adjusting themselves better over us.
And then, her eyelids began to flutter.
She was going to wake up.
Quickly, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Because yes, I'm that much of a coward sometimes. Who can blame me? I had no idea how to handle the situation.
I felt her movement before I heard it. A small stretch, a soft sigh. Then, a melodic voice right next to my ear:
"Good morning, Sunny."
I opened my eyes and found hers. Red like rubies, bright like jewels, looking at me with that innocent curiosity that characterized her.
"G-good morning," I managed to articulate.
Lumine slowly sat up, stretching her arms above her head. Her wings followed the movement, fully extending for a moment before folding into their usual position.
"You slept well," she stated, more than asked.
"Y-yes," I lied, because I hadn't actually slept — I didn't need to — but I had spent the night lost in my thoughts, listening to the beating of my own heart.
Larry, beneath me, growled lazily.
"Larry says to get off," Lumine translated with an amused smile. "He says you're heavier than you look."
I hurried to get up, feeling my cheeks warm.
"Sorry, Larry."
Larry snorted, but didn't seem really bothered. He stretched, yawned showing all his teeth, and then curled up next to Lana, who was still sleeping peacefully.
---
A few minutes later, we were gathered around the remains of last night's campfire. Well, I was eating fruits I'd gathered at dawn, and Larry and Lana were enthusiastically devouring the leftover fish — which had miraculously not burned this time.
Lumine just watched.
"You don't eat?" I asked, biting into a juicy red fruit.
She shook her head.
"I don't feel hungry," she replied. "I can eat, if I want to. I actually like doing it. But it's not necessary for me."
"Divine things," I nodded, as if I understood. "Makes sense."
"Do you need to eat?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Technically, no," I admitted. "I'm immortal. But... I like it. The taste, the texture. Also, when I don't eat, I feel an emptiness in my stomach. It doesn't kill me, but it's annoying."
"I understand," she said, though it probably wasn't true.
We finished breakfast in comfortable silence. The sun was slowly rising over the lake, painting the water in golden tones. Birds — prehistoric birds the size of eagles — sang in the distance.
"Sunny," Lumine suddenly said, with a smile that lit up her entire face. "I know where I want to go."
I set the fruit aside, interested.
"Where?"
"To the ocean."
I blinked.
"The ocean?"
She nodded enthusiastically, her wings fluttering slightly.
"My sister told me about it. She said it's a curious place. On the surface, it's monotonous. Just water as far as the eye can see, always moving, always the same. But at the bottom..." — her eyes shone — "At the bottom it's completely different. There are creatures you've never seen, landscapes that don't exist on land, secrets waiting to be discovered. I want to explore it."
As she spoke, an idea began to form in my mind.
The ocean.
I'd never considered it, but... why not?
"You know," I said slowly, a smile forming on my lips. "That sounds pretty cool."
Lumine smiled more broadly.
"You think so?"
"Yeah. I've never explored the ocean. Well, in my previous life I went to the beach a couple of times, but only to the shore. Never to the bottom. Never really." — The idea grew in my mind — "We could find all kinds of things. Sea creatures, sunken treasures, ancient ruins... well, maybe not ruins, there aren't civilizations yet. But there could be sunken ships! No, no ships either. But there could be... things. Interesting things."
Lumine laughed softly at my enthusiasm.
"So, we'll go?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Let's go to the ocean."
I turned to Larry and Lana, who had finished their breakfast and were watching us with expressions that, in a wolf, could only be described as skeptical.
"What do you think, guys?" I asked. "Are you okay with going to the ocean?"
Larry growled. Not an aggressive growl, but that kind of growl he used when he wanted to communicate something. Lana joined in with a series of yips and ear movements.
Lumine listened attentively, her head tilted in that gesture that was becoming familiar.
"Larry says," she translated, "that the ocean is big. Very big. And that salt water is bad for the fur."
"We can wash them afterward," I offered.
Lana intervened with more sounds.
"Lana says there are creatures in the ocean that are bigger than them. Much bigger. And that they don't swim well."
"I won't throw them in the water," I promised. "They can stay on the shore while we explore. Or we can find a way for them to accompany us without getting wet."
Larry and Lana exchanged a look.
Then, Larry growled something else.
"What does he say?" I asked Lumine.
She smiled, though there was a hint of amusement in her expression.
"He says: 'We don't believe you.'"
"What do you mean you don't believe me?" I protested. "I'm your leader! Your friend! Your pack mate!"
Lana emitted a sound that sounded suspiciously like canine laughter.
"Lana says the last time you promised something, they ended up covered in mud for three days."
"That wasn't my fault! The boar ambushed us!"
"And the time you promised there was a shortcut," Lumine continued, translating, "they walked twice as far and ended up at a cliff."
"It only happened once, Larry!"
"And the time you promised the berries were edible..."
"THIS TIME IS DIFFERENT!" I shouted, feeling my cheeks burn.
Larry growled something final.
"Larry says," Lumine concluded, with a smile threatening to become laughter, "that they'll believe you when they see the ocean with their own eyes. Until then, they don't trust you."
I collapsed onto a rock, defeated.
"My own wolves don't trust me."
Lumine sat beside me and gently rested her head on my shoulder.
"I trust you," she said.
"Really?"
"Yes. You're a disaster," she stated with complete honesty. "But you're an adorable disaster."
"Adorable?" I repeated, unsure whether to be offended or flattered.
"Adorable," she confirmed. "Like a puppy that trips over its own paws but keeps trying to run."
Larry, from his position, let out a growl that sounded exactly like "puppy."
"YOU shut up!" I yelled at him.
Lana laughed. Wolves can laugh, they can definitely laugh.
---
We spent the morning planning the route.
The nearest ocean was to the east, several days' walk away. We would cross more plains, some hills, and possibly a couple of forests before reaching the coast.
"Three days, maybe four," I calculated. "Depending on the obstacles."
"What kind of obstacles?" Lumine asked.
"Giant animals, unpredictable weather, rivers to cross, cliffs to go around, possible natural disasters caused by my bad luck..."
"Ah," she nodded. "Normal obstacles, then."
"Exactly."
Larry, who had been listening to the conversation with an expression that could only be described as resignation, got up and started walking east.
"Where's he going?" I asked.
Lumine listened to his distant growls.
"He says if we're going to go, we'd better start walking. That you waste a lot of time talking."
"I don't waste time! I'm planning!"
"Larry says your 'planning' always ends in 'disastrous improvisation.'"
"That's...!" — I wanted to protest, but I couldn't refute it — "Well, he might have a point."
Lumine stood up, stretched her wings, and offered me her hand.
"Let's go," she said. "The ocean awaits."
I took her hand without thinking. It was soft and warm, and for a moment, my heart raced again.
"Let's go," I repeated, more to myself than to her.
Lana lazily got up and followed us, wagging her tail with what seemed like approval.
And so, with the sun rising over the lake, with my distrustful wolves and my new celestial friend holding my hand, we began the walk east.
Toward the ocean.
Toward new adventures.
Toward who knows what dangers.
"Lumine," I said as we walked.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For..." — I searched for the words — "For existing, I guess. For being my friend. For making this less lonely."
She smiled, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop.
"Thank you too, Sunny," she replied. "For existing as well."
Larry, up ahead, growled impatiently.
"Larry says stop being cheesy and walk faster," Lumine translated.
"LARRY!"