Ovelia's POV
The fairy's delicate weight barely registered in my cupped palms, his tiny body radiating warmth like a living ember. His iridescent wings twitched occasionally, casting prismatic reflections across my skin with each faint shimmer. I studied his storm-gray eyes - they held depths I couldn't fathom, watching me with an intensity that felt disproportionate to his miniature size.
"Wind?" I whispered again, testing the name. He remained silent, though his tiny chest rose and fell with steady breaths.
"Ovelia, the fight is over." Ann's voice cut through my thoughts, her tone measured but carrying an undercurrent of vigilance. She stood poised beside me, every muscle in her powerful frame taut with readiness. Her black nose twitched as she scented the air, her black eyes continuously scanning the tree line.
