Elaris and Sylvaine walked into the grove.
Zephyron was already there—resting in the clearing, wings folded, posture calm but alert.
Its bright green eyes flicked toward them briefly, then back to the trees.
Not far from its side, Velmara stood hunched against a tree.
One hand braced on the bark.
The other pressed tightly against her stomach.
Her expression was pale, strained—and she was still dry heaving.
Elaris raised her brow, then smirked.
"Big sister Velmara… how do you do?"
Velmara's eyes twitched.
Her head turned just enough to glare.
Elaris didn't stop. She stepped forward, voice light.
"You know, for someone who said 'Thunder beasts are my calling'… you vomited quite a lot."
Velmara opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
She clutched her side and winced.
Sylvaine sighed. "Elaris. Stop. Let your sister breathe."
Elaris lifted both hands.
"Okay, okay. Just checking if she still had some dignity left."
