When Zephyroth woke, sunlight filtered through the canopy above. He groaned, every muscle in his body protesting as he sat up.
"Well, look who's alive," a voice said.
He turned to see a woman leaning casually against a tree. She had fiery red hair tied into a messy braid and a bow slung over her shoulder. Her leather armor was worn but well-maintained, and a playful smirk tugged at her lips.
"Who are you?" Zephyroth asked, his voice hoarse.
"Kyra," she replied. "Rogue adventurer, part-time rescuer of idiots. And you?"
"Zephyroth," he muttered, still wary. "What do you want?"
Kyra shrugged. "Nothing, really. I was just passing through when I found you half-dead. Thought I'd stick around and see if you survived."
"Gee, thanks," Zephyroth said, rolling his eyes.
Kyra laughed. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. What's a rookie like you doing out here alone?"
He hesitated. "I'm… trying to get stronger."
"Aren't we all?" she said, her tone softening slightly. "Tell you what, kid—I could use a partner for the next stretch. This forest gets a lot worse the deeper you go. Interested?"
Zephyroth studied her, unsure if he could trust her. But after everything he'd been through, having an ally didn't sound so bad.
"Fine," he said. "But don't expect me to carry your weight."
Kyra grinned. "I like your attitude. Let's see if you can back it up."