The sand was cold underneath her paws. It was a cold night. A lonely night.
But the wolverine did not feel cold as she saw the light shooting at the sky. She knew who it was instantly.
Standing in the desert with the wind caressing her red fur, her emerald eyes shook as she saw the light took a form of a bird in the distance.
She knew well, the light came from another continent. Another country.
But what was important was that the light existed. The light shone.
Lyria.
Warmth crept to her body, it filled her heart with an indescribable feeling as her eyes watered at the sight.
The phoenix has risen.
***
The sea has always been cold. And it was a cold night. Colder than usual.
Usually, she would just huddle with her wyvern or barged into the captain's room, and shamelessly to
