As she reached the shore, she could finally see everything clearly.
There was a green-haired lady there, surrounded by plants that seemed to move with her sorrow. She held a small child — also green-haired — close to her chest, quietly sobbing.
Evelyn noticed the child wasn't breathing. That much was obvious.
Ah… she thought, as if everything suddenly clicked into place.
Even the land animals had gathered nearby, their heads bowed in silence. But when their eyes fell on Evelyn, something in their behavior changed. Slowly, hope returned to their movements.
A tiger-like shadow creature broke from the crowd and stopped before the whale, lowering its head as if inviting Evelyn to climb on. Then, a great bird descended, picked her up gently, and set her down on the tiger's back.
The tiger ran toward the woman — the plants around her shifting aside as if obeying her unspoken command. Evelyn deduced, almost idly, that this was magic.
When the tiger stopped, a small squirrel-like animal scurried to the woman's shoulder, startling her from her trance.
Her eyes opened, dazed and red from weeping. Confusion flickered across her face as she took in the scene — the animals, the tiger, the human infant staring up at her from the grass.
Her gaze softened for a moment. She didn't understand why, but something about the child felt different. Not familiar, exactly — but important. Alive. Present.
Then her focus dropped back to the child in her own arms. Her expression broke again. If only… if only he didn't die… If only it were me instead, she thought, holding her son tighter.
Evelyn watched, quietly amused. Why is she crying so much? she wondered. It's just slight brain damage. Not unfixable.
The display was inefficient. Irrational. So she decided to intervene.
With small, clumsy movements, she crawled off the tiger's back, her tiny hands sinking into the grass. She moved forward until she reached the woman and gave her a faint nudge.
The woman froze. Then, without speaking aloud, a voice brushed against Evelyn's mind.
Please… leave. Let me mourn for my child in silence. I don't want to spread this grief to the others. I don't know who you are, or why the creatures brought you here, but I can't replace my child with anyone. Please… go.
Evelyn blinked, slightly startled by the sudden intrusion into her thoughts, but she recovered almost instantly.
Ma'am, she replied calmly through the same mental channel, I may be able to help.