Han Yu was surprised as it saw the rat move in years.
Chitterfang crawled weakly from his robes, without every opening its eyes before collapseing against his neck. He chittered faintly before curling up again. Its fur was warm to the touch, almost hot, and its breathing was steady.
Han Yu let out a shaky laugh that turned into a cough.
"Still with me," he murmured hoarsely.
He forced himself upright, teeth clenched as pain finally caught up with him. Bruises bloomed across his skin, muscles screamed in protest, and exhaustion pressed down on him like a mountain. Yet beneath it all, there was a strange clarity in his mind, a steadiness that had not been there before.
He checked his surroundings quickly.
The riverbank was narrow, hemmed in by steep slopes and dense clusters of frost covered trees. Snow fell lightly, muffling sound. There was no sign of the Wyvern, no crushing pressure in the air, no echoing roars.
For now, he was safe.
