'Hello?'

An unfamiliar voice drifted through the dark, threading into the silence with a hush. Her ears twitched, her gaze lifting as she scanned the void frantically. Was it the spirit of her beloved? Had it come to free her from this desolate prison?

Movement. A figure stirred within the inky blackness, its edges uncertain, shifting like a ghost. Yet there, against the dark, stood an unmistakable white silhouette. Her breath hitched. For a fleeting second, hope clawed its way into her chest. Then—scent. Familiar in all the wrong ways. It rushed into her lungs, washing over her like cold water. Not Rowen.

"I don’t bite... "Though are you of flesh and blood or the shadows that wish to taunt me?"

"I wish I could say we are both merely apparitions," Takala called back, her voice dipping with incredulity. A sigh vacated her chest, soft and unbidden, dissipating her frustrations into the empty air. She stepped forward cautiously, the dim light tracing her lavender-touched fur.

"My name is Takala..." She paused. "Who are you?"