Now certain the bandits had lost my trail, I searched for a place to rest. But where? I had no answer. Every corner, every alley whispered of danger. For days, misfortune had clung to me like a shadow, dragging me into trouble at every turn. If I was to find refuge, it had to be somewhere isolated, and quiet—ideally, a place devoid of people.
Just as I pondered my next move, Hei Hei took a sharp turn into an unfamiliar street. It wasn't a road we had passed in the few days since my arrival in this kingdom. The street looked forgotten, ancient. Buildings, long abandoned, leaned as though one gust of wind might send them tumbling. Grass crept over the path, nearly swallowing it whole. Birds and rodents had claimed the crumbling structures for themselves, leaving no doubt that this part of the kingdom had been forsaken.
As we ventured further down the street, the air grew colder. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and I could feel every hair on my body standing at attention. The wind whispered eerie sounds in my ears, and with darkness steadily creeping across the sky, the unease in my chest swelled into fear. This was a place forgotten by the world—isolated, desolate, and unsettling.
Yet, Hei Hei trotted on, indifferent to the ominous atmosphere. She moved with purpose, her pace steady and sure, as if she knew exactly where she was taking me.
I tried to remain silent, trusting in Hei Hei's instincts even though I had no idea what her plan was. But the deeper we went, the more I felt my courage slip away. The shadows lengthened, the air thickened, and the street seemed to close in around us. I couldn't shake the growing dread gnawing at me.
Finally, I couldn't stay quiet any longer. I gently scratched Hei Hei's back, hoping to get her attention.
"Hey, girl," I said, my voice trembling, "where are we headed? This place doesn't feel safe… and I'm scared." My tone cracked the edge of fear unmistakable.
Hei Hei neighed softly in response, the sound as comforting as a whispered assurance. It was strange how clearly I understood her—how her noises felt like words spoken directly to me. She was telling me to trust her, not to be afraid.
"I hear you," I murmured. "I'll stay calm."
But it was a lie. Despite her reassuring gesture, fear still churned in my gut. I trusted her—of course, I did—but unease gnawed at me. My eyes darted nervously at every sound, my body tense, expecting something—anything—to leap from the shadows. The deeper we went, the thicker the tension grew. It felt like the air itself was watching, waiting for something unimaginable to happen.
I could hardly wait to get to wherever Hei Hei was leading me. The atmosphere was becoming more oppressive with every step.
After a few more minutes of silent riding, Hei Hei took a sudden left turn. As I glanced ahead, I saw a river at the end of the path. The place was wide and open, with boats and fishing equipment strewn about—unused for what seemed like years. Yet, despite the signs of abandonment, the atmosphere here felt soothing. Trees of various kinds lined the riverbank, their branches heavy with ripe fruit. Ropes, likely for harvest, dangled lazily from the trees. It was the perfect spot—quiet, isolated, and serene. Exactly what I needed after the chaos of the past few days.
A thought struck me suddenly. Had Hei Hei somehow read my mind? Just moments ago, I'd been thinking about finding a place devoid of people, a place to rest. And now, here we were. Before I could dwell on the thought, I realized Hei Hei had stopped, signaling me to dismount. She had brought me to the perfect destination.
I slid gently off her back and walked around to face her. Looking into her eyes, I spoke softly, my voice heavy with gratitude. "Thank you." My throat tightened as emotion swelled within me, and I felt the sting of unshed tears threatening to spill.
But Hei Hei, always quick to lighten the mood, nudged me a bit harder than usual and let out a playful whinny. It was her way of saying, "Stop it, cheer up. You know I hate seeing you like this."
I smiled through the tears and replied, "I know, girl. I just couldn't help it." I wrapped my arms around her neck and held her tightly, feeling like I could stay there forever. The tears that had been welling up in my eyes finally spilled over, and I couldn't stop them.
Why was I suddenly so emotional? Why now, when I had been holding it together for so long? Maybe it was because Hei Hei always seemed to understand me, even when I said nothing. She had been with me through everything, my one constant companion. Or maybe it was because I had just remembered I was a teenager—homeless for days now, struggling to survive in a kingdom I barely knew. A kingdom whose fate now rested in my hands.
Perhaps I was overwhelmed by the thought of the countless troubles I had fallen into, one after the other. Or maybe the memory of my mother's death had resurfaced, hitting me as sharply as it had the first time. I had lost her before I could even begin to mourn properly. I had never known my father, and now, I was an orphan—alone, fighting for survival in a world that felt impossibly cruel.
Or maybe it was just the crushing realization of how truly alone I was. No home, no family—only Hei Hei, the one living soul I could trust. I thought about the nights spent sleeping on the streets, exposed to the elements, vulnerable to hunger and pain. I had been stealing just to eat, with no one to turn to. The weight of it all, the grief, the loneliness, the hunger, the desperation—it hit me all at once, and I had no choice but to let it out.
Hei Hei, for once, didn't try to cheer me up. She stood there quietly as if understanding that I needed this moment. She simply stayed by my side, sharing in my sorrow, her presence a comfort I didn't know I needed.
The grumbling in my stomach pulled me back to reality. I was seriously hungry. Now that the wave of emotion that had swallowed me up moments ago had subsided, the gnawing hunger was impossible to ignore.
But for the first time in a long while, I wasn't worried. I didn't have to think about sneaking around, gambling with risks, or stealing food while constantly fearing I'd get caught.
For once, the universe had smiled on me.
Hei Hei hadn't just brought me to the perfect spot—she'd brought me to a natural tavern, where food was free and abundant.
I looked at her and smiled, this time with a mischievous grin we were both used to. I gave her a gentle nudge, signaling my thanks. She flicked her ears and rubbed her head softly against my cheek. It was as if she was wiping away the last traces of my tears, welcoming me back to reality.
Sometimes, Hei Hei acted so much like a human—specifically, like my mother. It's one of the many reasons I could never be far from her, not now, not ever.
I stood there, speechless, just staring at her. But another loud grumble from my stomach made her push me forward, neighing noisily.
It was as if she was saying, "You better go get some fruit before we both die of hunger!"
I chuckled. "Okay, okay, I'm on it!" I replied, running toward the nearest tree, its branches heavy with ripe, dangling fruit. The scent of berries filled the air, sweet and inviting, like nature itself was offering a feast.
I reached the tree and began plucking the ripe berries, stuffing a few into my mouth. They were juicy and sweet, bursting with flavor in a way that made me forget if only for a moment, the hardships of the past few days. I plucked more for Hei Hei, who neighed in approval as I fed her handfuls of fresh berries.
She ate with enthusiasm, her big eyes twinkling with contentment. I could tell she was just as grateful for this moment of peace as I was.
After we'd had our fill of berries, I spotted another tree not far off. This one was laden with ripe apples, their red skins gleaming in the sunlight like polished gems. I rushed over, plucking them eagerly and tossing a few to Hei Hei, who caught them mid-air with a snap of her teeth. She gave me a playful look as if challenging me to a game.
"Show off!" I laughed, grabbing an apple and taking a big bite. The crisp, refreshing taste washed over me, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief. For the first time in days, I felt truly at ease.
We wandered from tree to tree, harvesting pears from the next one, then oranges, filling our stomachs with the bounty of nature. The oranges were particularly sweet, their juice dribbling down my chin as I ate. Hei Hei slurped hers down messily, her muzzle sticky with fruit juice, but she didn't seem to mind.
By the time we reached the last tree, both of us were so full we could barely move. I leaned against Hei Hei, laughing between gasps for air. "I don't think I've eaten this much in my entire life," I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
She nudged me gently, as if to agree, her breathing heavy from the feast. Together, we stumbled toward the riverbank, collapsing onto the soft grass. I lay there, staring up at the sky, the weight of exhaustion settling over me. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, and the gentle murmur of the river beside us made everything feel peaceful.
Hei Hei lay down beside me, her body warm against mine. For the first time since we'd entered this kingdom, we were truly satisfied. The constant hunger, the fear, the running—it all felt so distant now, like a bad dream that had finally ended.
We both lay there in silence, catching our breath, too full to move. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, the river babbled softly beside us, and for a brief moment, everything was perfect.
It hadn't been easy—nothing about this journey had been—but here, in this quiet moment, we had found a small slice of peace. And for now, that was enough.