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Ingram knew he wouldn’t have been able to bear it; not like she had. He didn’t like pain, and even when it lasted only a day, it still took too long for his wounds to heal.

Emerie was stronger than him – not in body, but in mind.

Perhaps that realisation should have made his sight turn blue in sorrow or self-pity, but it turned yellow with pride for her.

A moment later, his orbs darkened in their hue when something flittered past his skull. Easily distracted, Ingram followed what was flapping around his face. Colourful and tiny, it flew away erratically.

When he returned his gaze to her, she’d already turned back to him. His tail tip curled against the grass in delight at knowing her blue eyes were upon him. The light beaming down on her made her appear to glow, and he didn’t know if the warmth he saw was her expression or a result of the sun’s rays.

Then her eyes crinkled and bowed, and her lips curled up in his direction.

Just as Ingram tilted his head, unsure of what he’d done to be rewarded with a smile, something fluttered in front of his skull again. Like before, it was colourful, small, and stole his attention.

Since it lingered near him, he darted his hand forward to grab it so he could inspect its colouring in closer detail. He missed, but as he was trying again, a set of hands lightly ran up his forearm to his wrist.

“Don’t try to grab them,” Emerie whispered, her face inches from his own. “You’ll only damage their wings.”

“What are they?” he asked, watching as a brown one, lacking in rich colours, flapped around her hair. “I have seen these before, but never in the Veil. Only on the surface.”

And since he and Aleron were often distracted in their play with one another, they often didn’t notice the tiny fluttering creatures until they were fleeing.

He’d seen many of them today, but that was because he’d disturbed the grass they were hiding in. They were always trying to escape, never stopping to play around them.

“They’re called butterflies.” She lifted her hand out to one that flew just above them, like she wanted it to land on her reaching fingertips. “You have to be gentle and patient with them. Let them come to you.”

I do not want to wait for them to come to me.It would be easier if he were to capture one when it was least expecting it.

Yet, when Emerie placed one of her delicate and small hands into his calloused dark-grey palm, he decided to follow her lead. She was touching him, and he was at peace with this because of it.

She backed up to give his hand space, and he held it out with his claws pointing upward. When a butterfly flew near it, he went to follow it until she told him to stay still.

It landed on his face instead.

Ingram stared as it slowly opened and closed its wings on his beak. It was bright blue, with black around the edges. Now that he was looking at it properly, it did look rather small and fragile. Its wings were thin, with its body thinner than his claw tip.

“They say it’s good luck if a butterfly lands on you,” she said with a quiet giggle, drawing his attention to her.

His sight shifted to bright yellow at the many butterflies that were choosing to rest in her hair or on her shoulder. She didn’t seem to notice them there, and he wondered if they were attracted to the brightness of her.

Pretty female.His chest was tight with a strange emotion akin to adoration at the sight of her with multicoloured insects on her.

Like them, she appeared colourful, small, and fragile.

When another butterfly landed on him, this time on the shiny claw of his pointer finger, its orange colouring blended with her hair just behind it.

In all his life, Ingram didn’t think he’d ever experienced such a serene, tranquil moment. He’d never just existed quietly and still with the world, letting it come to him rather than him violently reaching out to inspect it.

Had it not been for Emerie here, he would have squished and killed every butterfly he could just to look at it. His patience had been rewarded.

He attempted to bring his new friend closer, and it fluttered off.

Ingram didn’t mind. Not when he had his own bigger, brighter, and better colourful butterfly. One who had lost all her own new friends as she crawled over to sit between his legs with her back pressing against the inside of his left knee.

It was like she’d known he preferred the comfort of touch, even if it was something as minor as this.

“Emerie, the butterfly has landed on me. Does this mean I shall forever have good luck?” He let out a chuckle, allowing her radiance and his enjoyment of it to seep through him.

Since he’d been hoping for a smile, or maybe for her cheeks to do that reddening thing they did, his head jerked when her brows twitched like she wanted to frown.