Lillie was quite overjoyed when I had asked her to teach me how to make a fire. Her explosive enthusiasm was as if she had waited her whole life for me to finally ask. She led me into the woods, instructing me to gather small sticks—kindle wood, she told me—and branches from the forest floor.

  “Only gather dry wood,” she said while holding up a damp stick covered in moss, then tilted it from side to side. “Wet sticks don’t burn.” She then tossed the stick aside. I nodded, and then I wandered around the area, looking for dry branches and kindle wood. I realized that it was my first time entering the cedar forest. In the valley where I usually hunted or had trained with my caregivers, the forests consisted of oaks, pines, and some white birch trees. Walking through the pine forest never bothered me, and most forests in the valley of my enclave were sparse enough that I could easily move in and out without much thought. The giant cedars, by contrast, were overbearing and created a looming, frightening sensation in my body. A prickling tingle crept along my neck as I looked up and around, feeling uneasy about the dark canopy above and the massive trees blocking any clear view of the area.

  “What’s wrong?” Lillie asked me as I was staring up at the darkness overhead, then she followed my gaze.

  “Pretty amazing, huh?” she said with a smile.

  “No, it’s too dark,” I muttered while looking down at her, noticing her grin slowly disappear. “I don’t like it.” I then turned away, making my way out of the gloomy woods. We had not walked too far into the forest, and, within moments, the light beamed through the tree-line, and I could see the meadow. Towards the clearing, the trees grew sparser despite their enormous size, and I extended my wings, flying swiftly out of the forest, leaving Lillie behind. When I exited the overbearing trees, a sense of relief passed over me. As my tense muscles relaxed, my breathing became easier. I shook my head, allowing the tingling feeling to subside and release from my neck. Feeling vindicated, I left Lillie behind after gathering an arm’s worth of sticks and branches. She was a forest-dweller; she was accustomed to the climate of the forest. I was a resident of the sky, the open air, and the mountains. The density of the trees, the darkness of the canopy—it all felt terrifying. Perhaps she also learned this fact that day.

  She returned quietly with her arms full and began assembling the wood for a fire. She showed me the primitive techniques: the use of friction with stones that caused sparks, igniting thinner twigs, and the careful attention to enhancing the fire through patience, a steady hand, and gentle fanning of the small flame.

  “From now on, I’ll just gather supplies if we want to build a fire together,” Lillie finally said after the flame had matured into a larger fire. “But I do think it’s good for you to learn how to gather the proper wood if you decide to make a fire on your own.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I replied as I observed from my kneeling position. “Thanks.”

  “Why did you want to build a fire today in the first place?” she asked, then tilted her head. I pulled out from my satchel two of the four fish I had caught, and Lillie’s eyes widened. “You want to cook your fish?”

  I smiled and nodded as I held two fish by the tail, and Lillie stood up while the fire blazed.

  “Excellent. This will be fun,” Lillie said, then informed me that she needed to find something in the forest. “While I’m gone, you can gut the fish.”

  “Huh?” I grunted while still holding the raw fish in my hands, and my eyes darted over to the fire.

  “Like this,” she said, then pulled out a knife from her skirt pocket. She held onto the wooden handle while unsheathing the sharp blade. My eyes widened as she skillfully moved the blade underneath the belly of the fish, spewing its insides from the opening. She grabbed the entrails and threw them in the fire, little by little.

  “Like that!” she said after carefully moving her loose hair away from her face with her arm. Then, she rotated the handle of the knife in my direction.

  “Never seen that before,” I said as I grabbed the knife. “Why don’t we eat that part?”

  “Well, maybe your stomach can handle it, but mine can’t.” She giggled, then wiped her hands clean with her cloth napkin, then returned to the forest. I gutted the remaining three fish as Lillie instructed. I held the knife awkwardly at first, adjusting my grip as I learned how to use it properly. It was wide, slightly curved, and very sharp. I had never seen Lillie’s knife before, and I felt shocked by the fact that she carried such a dangerous yet useful tool.

  She’s always surprising me.

  I threw the entrails into the fire, noticing the flames engulfing the fleshy substance. The orange flames bounced and sizzled, and I wondered why the flame was orange instead of blue, like the flame eternally flickering in my home. Lillie returned, carrying four long, narrow sticks. I watched as she kneeled next to me. She grabbed a water canteen from her basket, pouring water on her hands and mine, and we wiped them dry with a cloth napkin. She took her knife and shaved the ends of the sticks to a point. Finally, she used the knife to pare off the scales on the skin of the fish, flicking them towards the fire.

  “Now,” she said while looking at me and handing me a fish, “do as I do.” She adjusted the mouth of the fish, then inserted the pointed end inside the gap. I followed her movements but struggled with prying open the mouth of the fish. The teeth were jagged, surprising me for a moment. At times, I would avoid eating the skull of the fish, although I did enjoy the flavors of the eyes, and I did not expect the teeth to scrape my skin.

  “Ouch, these things are sharp,” I said while I carefully watched Lillie thrust the stick further down the fish into its tail, impaling it completely.

  “Kind of like your teeth,” Lillie said. I used my tongue to feel the edges of my teeth, crinkling my nose. My teeth were, in fact, quite sharp, the canine being the pointiest.

  “Yeah, I guess so. Are your teeth sharp?” I leaned closer to her face, waiting for her to reveal her teeth. She opened her mouth, showcasing the smooth edges, some only slightly pointed.

  “A little bit!” I said encouragingly, causing Lillie to slightly giggle, and we continued skewering the other fish. Then Lillie stood up and walked towards the fire. She shoved the bottom of the piece of wood into the dirt next to the flames. She grabbed her knife again and used the wooden hilt to hammer the top of the stick, driving it deeper into the earth, and allowed it to sit at an angle, the raw fish precisely over the open flames.

  “You try,” she suggested with a beckoning hand, and she flipped her hair over her shoulder. With one powerful movement, I jammed the stick deep into the dirt at a perfect angle, catching Lillie by surprise. I looked up and pushed my hair out of my face.

  “Alrighty, you can do the rest then,” she said as her eyes darted, obviously observing my arm. At first, I did not intentionally want to show off. But Lillie’s look of admiration encouraged me to impress her again. I took the other two skewered fish in each hand, and a sense of audaciousness overcame my body. I lifted both my arms high into the air and, again in one dramatic swoop, struck the ground, lodging the stalks firmly. Lillie giggled and I felt my cheeks grow hot and my muscles tense.

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  I guess I am getting stronger.

  “Now, we wait,” Lillie said while twirling the ends of her hair as she admired our work—perhaps also my display of strength. She continued to stoke the fire with wood, keeping a steady flame, and we enjoyed the fire and the aroma of cooking fish.

  “I usually cook food prepared in a pot over an open fire in an oven, so this feels fun,” Lillie remarked as she examined each sizzling fish. She looked over at me while I examined the food over her shoulder with my hands folded behind my back. “You still don’t cook, do you?”

  “No,” I said while shaking my head.

  “And you’ve never made a fire?”

  “Correct.”

  “Not even to stay warm?”

  “I have a fire that never goes out.” Lillie suddenly jolted, then slowly turned her head to view me again, and I blinked rapidly as my wings twitched.

  “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged, and she lifted a thin brow, and opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of a branch falling outside of the fire circle alarmed her, and she picked up a branch from the side, and moved the burning log back into the fire. Then, she claimed that the fish was ready to eat. We sat down upon the blanket near the fire, and we consumed the fish straight off the skewer and I found it rather delicious. I felt a sense of pride and goodness within myself. It was my first time bringing food to share with Lillie, and I had hoped that Lillie appreciated it. Well, it seemed that it did as her green eyes glistened in the sunlight—did her skin also reflect some hints of cooler tones again?

  “Do you eat fish every day?” Lillie asked while licking her fingers.

  “Mostly,” I replied. The cooked fish was delicious. No—it was spectacular! I only consumed raw fish all my life, but this was different. It was good, it was amazing, and it was satisfying, not just for my stomach but for a deeper part of me that I didn’t quite understand at the time.

  “Well, if you bring fish next month,” Lillie said while grabbing a water canteen and taking a sip. Then, as she wiped the drops from her lips. “I’ll bring some salt, maybe some other spices, and we can make the fish even tastier!”

  “Tastier?” I asked and raised my brow while cleaning my teeth with my fingernail.

  “Yeah, silly, this is just basic cooking. If I bring some other spices, I can make it even more delicious.”

  There she goes again, surprising me. I don’t think there is anything she can’t do.

  “Actually,” she continued, “there are many tastier ways of preparing food. Bring me anything, and I will make it better.”

  “Even honey?” I asked curiously, hoping to catch her off guard.

  “Even honey! Honey on fish is a delicious meal in itself.”

  “You cannot be serious, can you? Honey on fish?” Lillie started laughing as she twisted the ends of her hair. I probably sounded like a foolish child to her at that moment. But I did not care. I was shocked that honey could be cooked on fish. Actually, I was surprised that anything could taste better than cooked fish over the flames of the orange fire. Initially, when I first thought about it, I had a vague idea of how the cooked fish could turn out. After consuming it, my mind was swirling with astonishment, absolutely dumbfounded.

  “Oh, Sable,” Lillie said as she still twirled the ends of her hair. “You are so funny sometimes.” My cheeks flushed and I looked down at the empty skewer across my lap and began picking at the bark, feeling grateful to be near her again and suggesting something that she thought was interesting—something fun to do together.

  As the orange fire blazed its glorious flames, Lillie talked more about food combinations that we could cook over the fire together. She spoke about some new friends she had met, one of whom was particularly amusing. I listened, admiring the highs and lows of her voice and her animated features as she explained things. The summer breeze shifted, causing the smoke to rise and fall in different directions. The fire felt different than the blue flames on the mountain. The orange, blazing fire felt cozy and welcoming, whereas the eternal-flame seemed mundane and only for survival purposes. Lillie also felt welcoming, happy, and warm to be around, especially as I sat in a relaxed pose with Lillie close to me.

  I looked around, enjoying the cozy moment, until my eyes settled on the cedar trees. It still bothered me—those lurking shadows of the giant forest. A sudden shiver ran down my spine as I thought about those moments under the towering giants. I had never felt that way before. I recognized that terrifying sensation creeping over me again as my eyes lingered upon the dark forest. From my recollection, I was never afraid of anything. I knew how to defend myself; I always had an escape route if needed. This, however, felt different—something I often experienced as of late.

  “You were really scared in the forest,” Lillie said, and I assumed that she had noticed me staring at the forest. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest, and my face grew solemn. I did not want Lillie to think of me as a coward; I did not want her to think I—a powerful Teragane—was afraid of the cedar trees.

  “Have you ever been inside these woods?” she asked. I shook my head, causing my black hair to bounce around my forehead. As discomfort overshadowed my demeanor, I could not find any words to defend or explain myself. I placed the empty skewers onto the grass as I continued to stare at the trees, and then sat down next to Lillie.

  “Hmmm,” she hummed, and I shifted my hands onto my lap while crossing my legs. Silence fell between us, and I could still feel my heart race within my chest as I thought about the forest in which Lillie lived within. I wondered if she was struggling to find appropriate words to speak or was attempting to formulate a joke about my cowardice. As sweat from anticipation and the fire nearby formed beads upon my forehead, I kept my eyes focused on my hands lingering on my lap.

  To my surprise, Lillie slowly nudged closer to my side as she scooted across the blanket, and her thigh touched mine. Then, ever so slowly, her hand slid into mine, and I watched as her fingers intertwined with mine. Her hand was rough, but warm, and I embraced her lock of affection. She then moved my hand onto her lap, and my eyes darted as her fingers began to caress mine.

  “It makes sense,” she said while staring at the forest, and she leaned her shoulder against mine.

  “Why?” I asked while my eyes were still drawn to our hands clasped together, and my heart pounded with anticipation.

  “You’re a Teragane, a creature of the sky,” she started. “Your life is in the open air, high above the ground. The great forest is enclosed and overbearing. It can be a dangerous place. Predators can be lurking from any angle; the darkness can be terrifying and dangerous.” She was right. Every ounce of my survival instinct was triggered, causing the unwanted emotional reactions. But why did that matter?

  “Why is it not terrifying for you?” I asked, realizing how easily Lillie entered and emerged from the forest. She often seemed nonchalant and casual, and she acted as if the forest was a non-threatening environment for her. Oh—of course, she was a forest-dweller after all.

  “Well, I guess it is just what I know. It is all I have ever known throughout my life. I was born and raised amongst the cedar trees.”

  “Like me living alone in the mountains.”

  “Yeah, exactly. I find that terribly frightening. For you, it is normal. The cedar forest is my normal.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “I guess so, if we think about who we are as individuals and how we’ve been raised.”

  I squeezed her hand, feeling enamored by our lock of affection and its warmth cast throughout my body. She looked at me, and I looked at her, and we exchanged loving smiles. She laid her head on my shoulder, gently caressing my hand with soft movements of her thumb. I extended my right wing behind her, offering further intimacy.

  Her close embrace felt pleasant, and the warmth of the fire felt comforting. I sighed with happiness as her acceptance of me, I of her, was a foundational reason why I loved being with Lillie. When I was with her, I felt accepted, understood, and wanted. I felt joy, excitement, and appreciation. I knew that my future goals were to help her escape from her dark, forest world, but, on this occasion, all I wanted was to sit by her side, her hand in mine. All I wanted was to know that we would always have each other. I only wanted to be accepted exactly as I was, and I think Lillie also wanted that from me.

  As I glanced at our intertwining hands, I noticed the comparison of our skin colors, and my heart began to flutter. We were different, yes, but both seemed to care about each other immensely. My stomach was full of the cooked fish, but my heart felt overflowing with love and happiness. I knew that I loved Lillie, but at that moment, I knew Lillie also loved me.

  Although we had never said it, I could only assume by our evidential actions that it was enough to solidify the very real fact simmering within my pounding heart of anticipation of being accepted by the one whom I loved.