As the festival wound down and the fortress grew quieter, Knox found himself on the ramparts, staring out at the snowy woods beyond his domain. The cold air felt good after all the dancing and laughter, and for a moment, he let himself savor the sense of peace.
He nearly jumped when Siraq appeared at his side, her heavy steps almost silent on the stone. She wore a thick cloak trimmed with white fur, her silver braids catching the moonlight. Knox noticed that she'd braided in a few fairy-made beads, one shaped like a heart, another like a paw.
They stood in companionable silence for a moment. Siraq broke it first, her voice softer than usual. "We do not have many days like this in the north. Laughter is… rare. My people, they watch you and wonder if it is truly safe to be happy again."
Knox shrugged, a little sheepish. "I'm still learning myself. Guess it helps to have good company. And questionable dance moves."
Siraq laughed, low and genuine. "You dance better than any chief I have known. Most of them would rather wrestle a direwolf than wiggle their hips before children."
A younger bearkin, Kota, small by their standards but still a head taller than Knox, bounded up, breathless. "Matron! The fairies want to know if we will join the snowball tournament tomorrow. I told them we would win."
Siraq smiled, ruffling Kota's hair. "You are too confident. The fairies are tricksters." She turned to Knox. "This is Kota, my youngest nephew. He is the bravest and the most likely to get covered in honey by your friends."
Kota grinned, sharp teeth gleaming. "If it brings more cake, I am ready."
A second bear kin, older and more reserved, approached with a respectful nod. "Warden. I am Yorrik, Siraq's advisor. Thank you for welcoming us. If you need help with stonework or battle drills, many of our kin have such skills."
Knox offered a handshake, a little in awe of Yorrik's massive paw. "I'll take you up on both. The fortress could use some northern muscle."
As the group talked, more bear kin drifted in: a trio of sisters with matching braids and a penchant for pranks, a stoic old elder who carved runes into the snow, and a scarred warrior named Halra who watched Knox with open curiosity.
Siraq leaned in, her voice low. "They like you, Knox. Even Halra, who trusts no one. You remind us of the stories, the old Wardens who built peace from strength, and laughter from loss."
Knox met her gaze, surprised by the vulnerability he saw there. "You're welcome here, Siraq. All of you."
She hesitated, then touched his arm, just for a moment, but enough to send warmth through the chill. "Thank you. It is good to remember hope."
As the moon rose, the group lingered, swapping stories and plans for tomorrow's games. In the quiet, Knox realized he was learning to see these visitors not just as potential allies or threats but as people. As a family, maybe, if he let himself hope.
Inside, the fairies and Nyx watched from the window, Nyx's tail flicking with approval.
The System pinged, gentle and amused:
[Bond Deepens: Sanctuary Grows.
Bear Kin Names Added: Siraq (Matron), Kota (Nephew), Yorrik (Advisor), Halra (Warrior), Mira & Tali (Prankster Sisters), Elder Bjor (Runecarver).
Legend: Still Writing.]
And for the first time since he'd arrived in this world, Knox felt that happiness might not be something you find. Sometimes, you build it, one snowy night, one dance, and one new friend at a time.