A young Orien sprints through the city park, trudging through the tall, uncut grass beyond the baseball diamond. Her sister follows twenty feet behind and begs her to slow down. The warmth of the setting sun is bright enough to keep them visible to their parents’ eyes, but dim enough that the air begins to cool down. Going to the park after dinner was a tradition that the Lesters took part in as often as possible; getting caught up in the sluggishness of city life is something no one should succumb to.

Orien collapses into the grass. “Run faster!” she says.

“You’re too big and too fast!” Helena says. Clumsily, her seven year-old body settles into the grass beside her sister. “I’m still too little. The fourth graders make fun of me for it.”

“Then I’ll kick their--” Helena throws her hand over Orien’s mouth, knowing her recent development in speech patterns.

“Stop! Mom and Dad don’t like when you say that.” Rapidly, she pulls her hand away. “Orien! Did you just lick my hand?”

“Doesn’t matter. But if the older kids keep making fun of you, tell me. I always carry all the chairs to the back of the room after music, so you could say I’m not someone they wanna mess with,” she says, a smug smile across her face. “But I’ll run slower next time. Just for you.”

The two gaze up at the sky. Between the tall buildings and flickering street lights, a blue sky morphs into a soft orange. In that moment, it feels like it’s shining just for them.

“You wanna see a magic trick?” Orien asks. Helena nods adamantly. “Close your eyes. And don’t peek. It won’t work if you open them and I’ll have to start over.”

She hesitates. “What if a beast comes out of the trees while I’m not looking?”

“Then I’ll protect you! You worry too much. Now close ‘em.” Helena follows Orien’s orders, settling back into the grass and shutting her eyes. “Listen to the birds. Try and figure out what they’re saying.”

Helena focuses all her energy on the distant bird calls across Elk City. Some are short and dissonant, while others float melodically through the air for what seems like minutes at a time. “Take two deep breaths,” Orien says. “And focus on nothing but the birds. If you don’t understand them, that’s okay. But try and let them understand you. Try and speak their language.” Helena envisions herself singing the same song the crows and cardinals and hummingbirds use to speak to one another. She imagines herself atop the trees with them, migrating between cities with them, living an avian life as one of their own. She makes out one phrase: “You can save these monsters. You must go deeper.”

She snaps upright in the grass. “I did it!” she yells. “I talked to the birds!”

“Isn’t it fun? Here, try it again. I’ll do it with you.”

Helena tries to listen to the landscape once more, but hears no bird calls; instead, growls echo from the far edge of the city. The quiet pounding in her head grows louder. She sits up and reaches for Orien’s arm, but the figure beside her hardly looks like her older sister. Snarling teeth, wide eyes, and claws take the place of a bright smile, warm gaze, and gentle touch. The sun drops out of the sky and pitch black consumes the landscape.

Allegra jolts awake and nearly falls down the stairs she’s sitting atop. She places her palms on the cool concrete to remind herself of reality. Something breathes down the back of her neck. She rests a halm on her pistol instinctively. Her gaze is soon met with the same snarling teeth, wide eyes, and piercing claws from her dream-- but this creature is not at all foreign.

Julius corners Allegra at the top of the staircase, baring his teeth. He knows no better in this state. Slowly, she reaches for his cheek, gingerly resting her palm against it. “Julius, I know you’re in there,” she whispers. Her voice is like a fraying rope, just threads away from snapping in two. Turning him in was one thing; but being afraid of the very person she swore to protect is a whole other level of emotion. She places her other palm against his cheek. “Please, just let me talk to you. Just… close your eyes. Try to let me understand you.” Allegra presses her forehead against his rigid snout, and he doesn’t reject it. She takes two long, deep breaths before humming Orien’s beast taming tune; Julius is a far cry from the typical, hostile forest beasts, but it’s worth a try. He stays upright, but relaxes his body enough for Allegra to feel like her friend is in there somewhere, listening.

“Julius, I am so sorry,” she begins. “I betrayed you. I knew it was a deal with the devil the moment the officers gave me the opportunity. And yet, I took it. It was selfish. She presses her forehead to his. “You don’t owe me your forgiveness. Once all this settles out and you’re… you again, you can tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again and I’ll be okay with that. That’s the pretty standard, human response. But you’re not human, are you?” Ever so slightly. Allegra chuckles through the tears. “Knowing you, you’ll probably make some… sappy response that I don’t deserve. But I’m not counting on it. All I’m counting on is that you’re listening to me and that you’ll do what makes you the happiest. But know that I’m going to make this right.”

Julius settles down on the floor, curling up beside Allegra. His eyes no longer burn with rage. His warm, characteristically understanding gaze is always there, no matter what form he’s in. Allegra turns over the thought of explaining their new team member to Wendy, Lynx, and the twins in the morning; but in the meantime, she dozes off to sleep once more.

Forgiveness is a long, winding road, but no matter what Julius decides, Allegra knows it’s worth walking.