Days drifted by like leaves in the river's current, and it had been almost a month in this beastly world. Every night, as the howls of distant creatures echoed through the air, I clung to a single mantra: "This time too will pass." It was my lifeline, the thought that kept me going in the face of loneliness. Nightly fears loomed, threatening to break the surface. The room filled with nightly howls and the presence of insects amplified my solitude. The void echoed with the absence of my family—their comforting hugs and the simple act of lending an ear to my worries. But I had to be strong; there was no one here to console me.

Each morning, I rose well after the sun kissed the horizon. A routine settled in: a trip to the river, gathering fruits for sustenance, and engaging in conversations with the ladies gathered there, hoping for any clues about my predicament. The lack of privacy weighed heavily on me, especially concerning my hygiene. Soap, toothbrushes—they were luxuries of another world. Immersed in my concerns, I made a mental note to acquire a wooden bucket for my room to improve my cleanliness.

Today was relatively stress-free, lounging near the river until evening, engaging in casual chatter, and then returning to the cold stone room to sleep. Ace often accompanied me back, and we had become good friends. His talent for roasting people, especially me, had become a daily amusement for him. One evening, I recited a pick-up line a cute tiger male had used on me: "Was what painful when you fell from the heavens, my angel?"

"Cringe," Ace replied, showcasing his grasp of modern slang. "I know, right! Like who would be moved by this," I agreed, laughing at the absurdity.

"He should have tried something like: 'I’m not good at holding conversations. Can I hold your hand instead?'" Ace suggested with a cheeky grin. I stared at him deadpan, remarking, "That's cheesy too."

"And here I thought so hard for it," he pouted, adding a playful tone to our banter.

The banter continued, providing moments of laughter amid the unfamiliarity of this world. Ace's appearance was a study in contrasts—strong yet gentle, his eyes harboring a warmth that contradicted his fierce exterior. He escorted me often, a gesture that went beyond duty. It was his way of ensuring my safety and perhaps a testament to our budding friendship. I had learned a lot about him—about his family, his life in this world, and the intricacies of the city's dynamics. "I do appreciate you escorting me," I admitted, "But you don't have to do this every day."

Ace chuckled, a sound that resonated with a comforting familiarity. "Well, I do enjoy our chats, and I don't mind being your personal escort. Keeps things interesting."

The rest of our time together was peaceful, filled with lighthearted conversations and teasing remarks. However, the tranquility shattered when I returned to my room. The cold, the leaves that barely constituted a bed, and the realization that I was once again alone overwhelmed me.

The companionship of Ace and the humor he brought into my life didn't alleviate the fundamental loneliness that crept back every night in the confines of my cold stone room.

In the tranquil hours before slumber claimed me, the room felt cold. I sprawled on the leaves, pondering the surreal nature of my existence. The uncertainty gnawed at me—I had no clues, merely surviving in a world that demanded more than I could comprehend. Each day became a performance, an act of donning a mask to hide the turmoil within. Silent tears welled up as the ache of missing my family reverberated through my core. "I miss you, Mom, Dad, brother," I whispered into the quiet abyss, a lament carried away by the echoes of solitude.