I didn't hear her, actually. That was the thing about Kori - you never heard her until she wanted you to. She could cross a field of dry, crunchy leaves without producing a sound, could climb a metal staircase in full gear and arrive at the top in silence. It wasn't a technique. It was just how she moved - naturally, permanently quiet.
What I noticed was the snow.
A soft compression to my left. The faint crunch of crystals adjusting to new weight, barely audible over the fire's crackle. I turned my head and she was already sitting, legs crossed, a meter away, as if she'd been there for minutes and I was the one who'd just arrived.
