Nakako

Nakako held their wings tight against the howling wind, forming a trembling shield around the tiny cooking fire. The rain was endless here, turning the scorched plateaus into a slick, gray mire. When they found Ren near the skeletal remains of some ancient beast, they were little more than a whisper of life, lost in the magical fog. Nakako wrapped them in their inherited wings, a heavy burden they’d always carried as a duty, not a gift. But Ren didn't see a burden. Once recovered, Ren spent hours mending the tattered feathers, humming soft tunes that the wind couldn't snatch away. In this desolate land of bones and rain, they found warmth not from the fire, but from each other. Ren learned to read the sky, and Nakako learned that a shield can also be an embrace.