Itsuki woke to voices.
Low at first. Murmurs layered with excitement, disbelief, and something dangerously close to reverence.
He groaned softly.
“Careful.”
Destro’s voice reached him before sight did, calm and solid. Itsuki felt a steady pressure at his back—warm, anchoring, keeping the familiar ache in his chest from flaring into pain.
“Don’t sit up too fast,” Destro added. “You drained yourself nearly dry.”
Itsuki blinked and stared up at a ceiling of woven wood and leaves. Sunlight filtered through gaps overhead, softer than the forest canopy outside. The air smelled of smoke, food, and fresh earth.
He was alive.
That was his first thought.
His second came when he noticed the room was crowded.
Too crowded.
Itsuki pushed himself up slowly.
And froze.
Standing around the room were people.
Human-shaped. Upright. Wearing fitted leather, cloth, and pieces of worked metal—but with unmistakable signs of what they had once been. Ears tipped with fur. Tails swaying behind them. Eyes sharp and luminous in colors he recognized.
“…What?” Itsuki breathed.
Destro chuckled. “You named them.”
The nearest figure stepped forward.
He was enormous.
Broad shoulders stretched the seams of his armor. His skin was a deep, sun-warmed brown, crossed with old scars. Thick orange-and-white hair fell past his shoulders, framing a face that carried both strength and calm authority. Grey eyes watched Itsuki closely, respectful and steady.
Enzrio knelt.
“My lord,” he said, voice deeper than before but unmistakably the same. “You wake.”
Itsuki panicked. “Y–you’re… human?”
“Werewolf,” Destro corrected mildly. “An evolution.”
Enzrio smiled faintly. “We still remember our claws.”
Beside him stood a younger man—tall, strong, but not quite as imposing. His skin was lighter, his orange hair shorter and messier, grey eyes burning with barely contained excitement. A tail flicked behind him uncontrollably.
Rio bowed so fast he nearly hit the floor.
“To stand beside my father like this…!” he blurted, then flushed. “S–sorry.”
Itsuki’s head spun.
Across the room, a tall woman stepped forward.
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Nerise.
She was statuesque, her figure powerful and unmistakably feminine. Light skin contrasted with long grey-blue hair that fell freely down her back. Her ears twitched slightly as she inclined her head, eyes calm, calculating, and watchful.
“The transformation was… overwhelming,” she said evenly. “But we remain ourselves.”
"She is a Felari" Destro informed
Others shifted behind her.
A smaller figure darted forward before anyone could stop him.
He barely reached Itsuki’s shoulder. Yellow hair stuck up wildly, matching a thin tail that twitched with nervous energy. His eyes were bright and sharp, body coiled like a spring.
“I’m faster now!” he blurted proudly. “Way faster!”
Destro snorted. “And louder.”
Itsuki pressed both hands to his face.
“I— I didn’t mean to do this,” he said weakly.
“You didn’t choose the outcome,” Destro replied, more serious now. “But you caused it. Naming bound them to you. Not as pacts—but as anchors.”
“Anchors?”
“You gave them a fragment of your mana,” Destro explained. “Yours is… excessive. Overwhelming. They could never form true pacts with you—it would destroy them. But they are now connected. They serve you instinctively.”
Enzrio lowered his head. “Not out of compulsion,” he said firmly. “Out of loyalty.”
Itsuki swallowed.
He felt it now.
Threads.
Faint but real, stretching from his chest outward. Warm. Alive.
“…I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Nerise studied him for a long moment, then smiled faintly. “You should be tired, not apologizing.”
Itsuki laughed weakly.
A silence followed—comfortable, but expectant.
Enzrio was the first to break it.
“My lord,” he said carefully, lowering himself to sit rather than kneel. “If you are willing, we would ask for counsel.”
Nerise inclined her head as well. “About the villages,” she added. “Now that we stand together… there are questions that must be answered.”
Itsuki nodded quickly. “Y–yeah. Let’s talk.”
They moved outside, gathering in a wide clearing between the dens. Rough-hewn logs were dragged into a loose circle. Itsuki sat awkwardly at first, feet barely touching the ground, until Enzrio quietly adjusted the log closer so he wouldn’t feel so small.
The gesture made Itsuki’s chest tighten.
“Our villages were separated for generations,” Enzrio began. “The forest protected us—but it also kept us apart.”
“The river as well,” Nerise said, tail flicking thoughtfully. “Trade was rare. Meetings rarer. Now that we are one people, distance will become a wound if left untreated.”
Itsuki listened, hands folded tightly in his lap.
“So… you’re asking how to connect them?” he asked.
“Yes,” Enzrio said. “Without inviting danger.”
Itsuki hesitated, then looked around at the towering trees, the thick roots twisting through the earth.
“There’s a lot of forest,” he said quietly.
It is dense by design, Destro noted within his mind. The Border Forest resists change.
Itsuki swallowed, then lifted his head.
“Could we… clear a path?” he asked. “Not all of it. Just enough. A road. And maybe a bridge over the river.”
The cobalts and catfolk exchanged looks.
Destro raised a brow. “I could burn it,” he said lightly. “A clean corridor. Fast.”
Itsuki’s head snapped up. “No.”
The word came out sharper than he intended.
“I mean—no burning,” Itsuki said more firmly. “This is my land now. And I don’t want to destroy it if we don’t have to.”
Destro studied him for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
“As you wish, my master.”
Itsuki flushed but pushed on. “The wood could be used,” he said. “For homes. Storage. A bridge. We don’t need to waste it.”
Enzrio’s eyes lit with something like pride. “You think like a builder,” he said.
“So do caretakers,” Nerise added softly.
Destro hummed, amused. “Very well. No flames. We will clear only what is necessary.”
Itsuki exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders.
They were people.
“…Okay,” Itsuki said softly. “Let’s do it together.”
