The moonlight seeped gently through the cracks of the stone walls, painting silver lines across the room where Ophelia and Valen slept soundly. Everything was peaceful—soft breathing, slow heartbeats, and Valen's unholy snoring that could probably wake the ancestors themselves.

But not tonight. Tonight, Glimora was on a mission.

The tiny creature's legs made the faintest pat pat pat sound as she hurried down the corridor, her little heart pounding faster than her steps. Her big eyes shimmered with worry, glistening like wet pearls in the dim glow. She'd left her mama behind crying — truly crying — and that memory burned inside her chest. Mama never cried. Mama was always strong, always smiling, even when she was angry or teasing. Seeing her like that felt wrong. It hurt.

So Glimora ran faster.

When she reached Ophelia's room, she didn't even stop to think. Her small head bumped against the curtain hanging over the entrance — once, twice — until it finally gave way, swaying aside with a soft swish.

The room smelled faintly of herbs, firewood, and sleep. It was warm, filled with the low hum of Valen's earth-shattering snores. Glimora froze in the doorway, her round ears twitching as she squinted toward the large bedding in the center of the room.

There they were.

Ophelia, fast asleep, her hair sprawled across the furs like soft gold threads. And Valen… sprawled over half the fur bedding, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist like she was his favorite pillow."

And oh gods, that snore.

Glimora blinked slowly. Then gave him a look — that pure, unimpressed, "you disgust me" kind of stare — the kind that even an ancient beast would've flinched at.

But she had more important things to do.

With a determined little huff, Glimora scurried closer, her tiny legs barely making a sound. She stopped at Ophelia's side and, with her soft head, started nudging. Once. Twice. Thrice.

No reaction.

She tilted her head. Maybe Ophelia didn't feel that?

So she tried again — harder this time — pushing with all her strength, her nose squishing into Ophelia's arm.

Still nothing.

The little creature's tail twitched in frustration. Her mama was sad, and Auntie Ophelia was snoring through a national crisis.

Glimora let out a quiet grumble that sounded more like a squeaky growl. Then, inspiration struck.

She clambered up the blanket, tiny claws digging in for balance, and made her way to Ophelia's face. She hesitated for only a second before lowering her head — and started licking.

One lick.

Two licks.

Three long, determined licks.

Ophelia made a sleepy noise and turned her face away, mumbling something incoherent against Valen's arm.

Glimora's little nose scrunched. Unacceptable.

She let out another growl, slightly louder this time — though it still sounded like the world's cutest attempt at intimidation. She kept at it, growling and licking and even pawing softly at Ophelia's cheek.

And finally — finally — a reaction.

Ophelia's eyelashes fluttered.

Glimora froze, her big eyes wide.

The lashes fluttered again, and Ophelia let out a tiny groan, rubbing her eyes. Her sleepy hand brushed against Valen's arm, trying to nudge him away as she blinked, confused.

The tiny growls continued, impatient, adorable, almost pleading.

Ophelia squinted toward the sound, and when her bleary gaze finally focused — she blinked twice before realization struck.

"Glimora?" she whispered hoarsely.

The little creature perked up instantly, her ears twitching, tail flicking with excitement.

Ophelia sat up slowly, rubbing the last bits of sleep from her eyes, and gently moved Valen's arm off her waist. The man mumbled something about "five more minutes" and rolled over, snoring again.

Ophelia's lips parted in confusion, her mind still foggy. She looked down at the tiny beast now standing on her chest, eyes big and glassy with emotion.

"Glimora…" she murmured, her voice softer this time. "What's wrong?"

Glimora's little claws clicked against the stone as she bounced in place, tail swishing anxiously. She tugged at Ophelia's clothes again, her tiny teeth nibbling on the hem of her night wrap as she gave a firm little "come on!" growl.

Ophelia blinked, still half-asleep, her hair a brown mess around her shoulders. "You… want me to follow you?" she asked softly, her voice raspy from sleep.

The tiny beast nodded furiously, big eyes shimmering in urgency.

Ophelia rubbed her temple. "Okay, okay, I'll come," she murmured, swinging her legs off the bed with a small sigh. She didn't know what was going on, but the panic in Glimora's eyes stirred something deep in her chest. She trusted this little creature — she always had.

But just as she was about to stand, a deep voice rumbled from the bed. "Where are you going?"

Valen's sleepy baritone carried a hint of possessiveness, his tail twitching lazily behind him as his sharp eyes cracked open. His arm reached instinctively toward her, fingers brushing her waist like a reflex.

Ophelia turned, startled, meeting his half-lidded golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark. She smiled softly, tiredly, her expression patient as always. "Don't worry about me," she said, gently brushing his hand off her side. "Go back to sleep. She wants to show me something. I'll be right back."

Valen's brow furrowed. "At this hour?" His voice was suddenly awake now, alert — protective instinct kicking in immediately.

"It's fine," Ophelia assured him, her hand resting on his chest. "It's just Glimora."

But Valen pushed himself up, the muscles of his shoulders flexing under the dim moonlight. "No. You're not walking around alone this late. I'm coming with you."

Ophelia blinked at him, torn between affection and exasperation. "Valen, really—"

He gave her that look — the one that said, you know arguing is pointless, my love.

And she sighed, defeated but smiling faintly. "Fine," she murmured, standing and wrapping a fur over her shoulders.

Glimora, watching all this unfold, gave an unimpressed look that could rival Isabella's own — pure disgust, complete with a scrunched little nose.

"Don't look at me like that," Valen muttered, glaring half-heartedly at the small creature as he grabbed his weapon from beside the pile of furs.

Glimora only huffed in response — a tiny puff of indignation — before she spun around and sprinted toward the doorway.

Ophelia followed quickly behind, her steps light and hurried now, Valen close at her side.

And just before the curtain fell shut behind them, Glimora glanced back once more — her small face serious, eyes glimmering — as if silently saying, Hurry.

Then she ran ahead, leading the way down the dim, echoing corridor.