---
A Week Later
Pittaria limped through the harsh, unfamiliar streets of Silver Medal Estate, her white dress billowing in the wind like a fragile veil. The sun beat down relentlessly, scorching her fair skin, and the weight of the world seemed to press down upon her shoulders. She barely noticed the curious stares of the passing strangers, their eyes drawn to her unusual appearance, her pointed elf ears, and the tense way she held herself. She didn't belong here—not in this world, not in this reality.
She cast her gaze downward, wishing to disappear into the pavement, hoping the earth might swallow her whole. "Oh, Mother, where are you?" Her heart cried out, torn between despair and the aching need for the safety of her home. She couldn't understand how she had ended up in this universe, a place where she barely knew anyone, where human faces were strange to her, and their world felt suffocating in its monotony.
Her skin burned in the heat, and her claws twitched uncontrollably, threatening to reveal themselves. She fought to control the primal urge rising within her. "How do they survive here?" The thought passed through her mind, laced with disdain. "Foolish creatures..." She sneered, feeling the anger bubbling inside her.
Suddenly, the shrill sound of car horns cut through her thoughts. The noise pierced her ears like a thousand knives, each honk an assault on her sensitive hearing. Her fox-like instincts flared up. She winced, the sensitivity of her ears making the racket unbearable. "Enough!" She wanted to shout, but she bit her tongue, gritting her teeth as the world continued to assault her senses.
A middle-aged man in a battered car slowed down beside her, his face full of concern. "Miss, are you okay?" he asked, studying her closely. His gaze lingered on her ears, which she instinctively clutched as though they were the source of her pain.
She shot him a venomous glare, her voice low and seething. "Of course, I'm in pain, you fool! Do you think I enjoy this?" Her sharp words seemed to amuse him more than anything, and he chuckled softly to himself.
"Children of these days..." he muttered under his breath, before offering her an unexpected proposal. "I can give you a ride. You look like you could use some help."
Without thinking, Pittaria approached the car. Her claws scraped against the side of the vehicle as she tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. Frustrated, she gritted her teeth, her anger growing.
"Let me help you," the driver said, reaching over from the front seat to open the door for her. His hands trembled slightly as he pushed the door open, and she slid into the backseat with a swift, almost graceful motion.
"Where to?" the man asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Fox Realm," Pittaria replied flatly, her tone unwavering.
The man blinked, confusion crossing his face. "Come again?"
She repeated, this time louder and more forceful, "I said... Fox Realm!"
Her voice seemed to reverberate, echoing in the small car, causing his eardrums to throb. He winced, the sound overwhelming him. His nerves tingled with a sudden, inexplicable fear.
"Please, miss... I don't know where that is," he stammered, his voice shaking slightly under the weight of her presence.
Pittaria's eyes darkened, her gaze cold and threatening. "If you don't drive, I'll end you right here," she whispered, her voice carrying an unmistakable promise of violence.
The driver's breath caught in his throat, and he quickly nodded, trying to calm the tremor in his voice. "Y-Yes, miss. Of course."
He tried to start the car, but it moved slowly, almost lazily, as if it had no real power. Pittaria frowned in irritation, her patience wearing thin. She hated how weak everything here seemed.
"Fly it," she commanded, her voice quiet but filled with authority.
The driver hesitated, clearly bewildered. "Uhm... this car doesn't fly, miss. It's a regular car. It moves on the road..."
She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. "Then you are of no use," she muttered under her breath. Without a second thought, she extended her claws and in one swift motion, snapped his neck.
The car doors flew open, and she stepped out, leaving the man's lifeless body slumped in the driver's seat. With a casual flick of her wrist, she yanked the doors off entirely and tossed them aside. As she turned to walk away, a shadow materialized behind her, casting an eerie, elongated shape over the cracked asphalt. She froze, her body tensing as she instinctively prepared for a fight.
"Cooge," she whispered, her voice betraying a flicker of relief.
The figure stepped forward, a smile curling on his lips. "Your Majesty," he greeted her, his voice rich with affection and respect.
"Oh, Cooge, I've missed you so much," Pittaria exclaimed, kneeling to wrap her arms around his small, but familiar form. Her heart swelled with emotion, the tight knot of loneliness easing just a little.
"I missed you too, Your Majesty," Cooge replied, his voice muffled by her embrace.
After a long moment, she pulled away, her brow furrowing in thought. "Now that you're here, let's go home," she said, eager to return to the place where she felt safe, where she could make sense of all that had happened.
Cooge, however, didn't share her enthusiasm. His expression shifted, and he hesitated before speaking. "We can't go back, Your Majesty. It isn't safe."
The words hung heavy in the air between them, and Pittaria's heart skipped a beat. She stared at him, confused and disoriented. What does he mean?
"We need to talk somewhere else," Cooge said, his voice firm, but there was a subtle urgency to it.
She didn't question him further, simply nodding as he led her away. In the blink of an eye, Cooge transformed, his body shifting into that of a tall, handsome human. His dark obsidian eyes were replaced by sparkling blue ones, and his hair flowed like ink, dark and smooth. His once scarred elf ears had softened, now matching the tan color of his skin.
He took her hand, his touch warm and grounding, and within moments, they stood before a large, unassuming building. The sign on the wall read Mac Rose Diner, with a whimsical drawing of a steaming bowl of food beside it.
Pittaria took in the scene, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. It was a far cry from the vibrant beauty of her own realm. Here, the flowers were either dead or withered, the earth dry and brittle. She missed the lush greenery of her homeland, the rich, colorful flora that surrounded her there. The contrast stung her heart.
Without thinking, she pulled her hand from Cooge's grip and walked toward a withered plant, her fingers grazing the dry, cracked soil. She knelt down, studying the plant, her thoughts drifting to a place she had long ago left behind.
---