Ache.

That was the first thing Mrs. Brisby felt as she roused from slumber, and the best way to describe how she felt: just…ache. Everything, all over, ached. From her bones to her muscles, from her head to her ankle, everything felt like it was straining under the weight of a boulder. A pained whine escaped her lips as she shifted in bed; an action she instantly regretted as that just aggravated her soreness, leaving her winching in place. Now her only goal was to remain as still as possible, wanting nothing more than to go back to the blissful, painless sleep she had awoken from.

She laid as still as she could, resting her heavy head against her pillow of leaves as she tried not to agitate anything.

That was, until she remembered: she didn't have a pillow of leaves.

This wasn't her bed.

Her eyes snapped open at that realization; another action she instantly regretted as a hot light stabbed into her pupils, sending another bout of agony through her skull, one that had her groaning in regret. She quickly clasped her paws over her face, gritting her teeth as she sucked in a breath, ignoring the soreness of her limbs in favor of soothing her eyes.

However, instead of the pads of her palms, she felt the touch of thick cloth against her face.

Confused, she pulled her hands away and opened her eyes again, this time slowly, easing them into the light; her vision was blurry at first, but with a few solid blinks it came back into focus: the two blobs of white that filled her vision cleared to reveal her paws, completely bandaged in gauze, making it look like she was wearing white mittens.

As her senses came to, she realized that wasn't the only cloth she felt; she could feel more wrapped around her head, and she looked up to see more white gauze at the very edge of her peripheral vision.

She reached up to inspect it, unable to feel it against her fingers thanks to the wrapping around her hand, but able to feel it shift against her forehead. It remained stuck against where she had hurt herself, though. A sticky substance had been spread over the wound before being bandaged up; most likely medicinal ointment, if the smell of herbs that lingered in the air and clung to her hands was anything to judge by.

Someone had tended to her wounds while she was unconscious.

…her wounds.

It slowly started coming back in a slow but steady of images, sounds, and emotions: her trip to Mr. Ages, learning that Timothy had pneumonia and of the new Titan Beast, going off the main path to avoid the footprints, the two weasels that chased her through the forest, her foolish blind leap and fall into a dried river…then it was a blur of fog after that.

She could feel something pushing against her skull…something else she was supposed to remember…but for the life of her, she couldn't.

She couldn't remember anything past the painful fall, and given how much her head currently ached, it wasn't hard to imagine why: she must've hit her head at least three times tumbling down the riverbed. She hissed in pain as the memories only made said headache even worse, and she rubbed her paw tenderly against her throbbing skull.

Perhaps it would be best to wait until later to recall anything else…

…so where was she now?

Moving very slowly and gingerly so she wouldn't agitate her body any further than needed, she managed to sit up in the makeshift bed she realized she was in. Though it was a bed in the most primitive idea of the concept: made of patches of cotton stuffed into an old quail's nest, with a large leaf wrapped over the top. A second leaf had been draped over her as a blanket, which slid down her front around her hips as she sat up, with several more leaves had been gathered in a pile to serve as a very bare-bones pillow. It was looked like something out of Nimh's past, straight from the burrow of prehistoric cave mice.

Her surroundings only complimented the bare-bone living conditions of her rescuer. She was in a large burrow, but not one dug out by paw: rather it was formed under a great tree, the large snaking roots making the perfect natural ceiling to hold the earth in place. It looked like it was an abandoned El-ahrian burrow, easily large enough to house several rabbits, the root-lined ceiling high above her. A small campfire had been made close by, casting a dim but warm light against her and the wall the nest-bed was near. A large, flat rock sat next to the nest, upon which several items were placed: several clay bowls of medicinal paste, folded wraps of gauze material, a couple medical tools made of a strange green crystal instead of metal, all laid out on a shawl made of leaves which had been laid out across the rock, while her dress and clo-

Wait.

Mrs. Brisby did a double-take, her eyes widening comically at the sight of her own dress draped over the end of the rock, alongside her cloak hanging on a jutted point of stone.

And she only needed one quick look down to confirm it; she gave an alarmed squeak as she grabbed the blanket leaf, frantically pulling it up over her bare chest as a heavy blush erupted across her face, visible through her fur.

She sat there, red as a tomato, burning with embarrassment for a good minute or so, before she took a quick peak under the blanket to see what had been done to her. She saw another binding of gauze wrapped around her torso, tightly bound and doubled-up in layers around her midsection under her breasts. Whoever had removed her clothes had done so to tend to her bruised ribs, having wrapped the bandages around her like a corset, in a way that prevented her from bending her spine too much so that her injuries could heal properly.

She blinked in surprise as that realization came right after the first; someone had found her unconscious, carried her to safety and tended to her injuries. But who…?

"About time you decided to wake up."

Her question was ultimately answered by the sudden voice, which caused the poor mouse to jump in startled fright. Instinctively clutching her blanket over herself, she looked up to the entrance of the burrow, which was across the fire pit from the bed she was in. The owner of the voice pushed the portiere made of leaves woven together with vines aside with a single, furless hand, a bright glow illuminating the darkened burrow as they entered.

A glow that emanated from the being's very body.

Mrs. Brisby's eyes widen at the sight of the winged humanoid that stepped into the den, the portiere falling back into place behind them. It was a fairy…an actual fairy, one of the mysterious Fair Folk of the equally-mysterious Feywild Forest. Johnathan had told her many stories of the magical forest people of north-western Nimh and his encounters with them during his travels, but she had never imagined seeing one in the flesh herself.

Mostly because they weren't exactly on friendly terms with the Rodentkin; the relationship between the two races could best be described as 'uneasy' at best. Despite the praise her late husband had spoken of a few individuals he personally knew, he also had made it very clear that they were not to be approached: he described them as a very reclusive and aloof bunch, always keeping to themselves in their forest…especially for the past half-century or so, when they suddenly closed their borders completely to the outside world, forcing all Rodentkin who even attempted to enter their lands away. By blade, if necessary.

So why was this one…?

Without a word, the fairy took a seat next to the foot of the bed, on a rock right next to the larger one where all the tools (and Mrs. Brisby's dress) had been laid out. Without taking her eyes off her 'patient', the winged girl picked up the crystal scissors with the pinky finger of her right hand.

"Show me your leg." She finally spoke, motioning to said legs hidden under the blanket.

That caught the mouse off-guard, her eyes going wide. "E-Excuse me?"

The fairy gave her a look that could only be described as exasperation incarnate, thoroughly done with the world and its nonsense. "So I can finish bandaging your ankle, you nitwit."

"O-O-Oh…" The doe squeaked, pulling her blanket up to cover her face, which was now flushed an even deeper shade of red.

Her annoyed host only gave an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes as she reached down and lifted the leaf up off the mouse's bare legs, folding it up so it still covered her lap. Peeking over the rim of her leaf, Mrs. Brisby saw that her right leg had been wrapped in a rudimentary splint: a wrapping of gauze around her ankle, and two straight sticks bound with small vines to her upper shin and 'foot' of her paw, forcing the ankle straight and still so that the pulled tendons could heal without being disturbed. It was rather primitive, but none the less effective, as she found that she couldn't bend her ankle at all…not that she tried to, given how sore it was just resting there. A few loose feet of gauze hung from the end of the wrapping near her toes, waiting to be tied off.

"I don't even know why Rodentkin have a nudity taboo to begin with." The fairy said as she worked, leaving her tool to hang from her hooked pinky as she wrapped the last bit of gauze through the sticks and around Mrs. Brisby's foot. "You're all covered in fur. Nothing indecent is exposed." She tied off the last straps, taking care not to tie them too tightly. "The El-ahrians and the Nocturnals don't wear clothing and they get along just fine…well, in the Nocturnals case, they can't wear clothing, given their wings and all."

"You have wings." Brisby stated softly, catching herself off guard with her own words. She raised her paw to her lips, eyes widening in surprise; they had slipped out so casually that she didn't even register them until they were spoken.

The fairy only smirked, though, a small glimmer of amusement flashing in those turquoise eyes.

"And they make it a pain in the ass to get dressed every time." She quipped with a dry laugh as she finished tying the binds; with an impressive dance of fingers, she spun the scissors around in her palm a few times before slipping them right into place in her grasp, snipping them twice for good measure. She moved so fast that by the time Mrs. Brisby could flinch, the spare lengths of gauze had been snipped off.

"There." the brown-haired girl said, leaning back and putting the cutting tool back on the rock with the rest. "That should keep it good until you can get it properly tended. But even then, you're gonna want to stay off that foot for the next couple of days."

Mrs. Brisby opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by the rabbit-hide waterskin that was suddenly shoved in front of her nose. "Here. You'll probably want to replace all the fluid you lost too."

Whatever the mouse intended to say was quickly forgotten as she became strongly aware of how dry her mouth was; the telltale sloshing of water was almost hypnotizing, her parched throat aching for its life-given content. She instinctively licked the back of her teeth as she took the waterskin in her bandaged paws, barely noticing their soreness as she brought the amber valve up to her lips.

Still a bit wary that this could be a fairy trick, she took a small sip…

…and then promptly threw caution (and manners) to the wind and began downing the entire thing in large, audible gulps, so fast that water tricked down the sides of her mouth and dripped from her chin. The fairy cocked at eyebrow, mildly impressed and greatly amused by the unflattering display.

"Where does it all go in such a small body?" She mused aloud as she watched her guest lean back and finish the waterskin in a single go.

Mrs. Brisby gasped for breath as she flopped forward, dropping the empty skin into her lap. She sat there, using her arms to keep herself steady as she wobbled in place; part of her felt like she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, while another part of her felt fit to burst, her belly slightly extended from how much water she drank.

But after a few minutes of steady breathing, she regained her sense of balance, along with the realization of how silly she must've looked; blushing softly, she used the leaf to wipe the water from her chin, trying not to meet the fairy's amused stare.

"T-…T-Thank you." She murmured softly as she handed the waterskin back to her rescuer, glancing up with shy yet grateful eyes.

The fairy merely 'hmmed' in acknowledgement as she took the skin and turned to the table, gathering the tools and skin into a single pile before wrapping the green shawl around them. She then stood up and turned away from the mouse and raised one hand, running her fingers down through the air in front of her, as if sliding them down an invisible windowpane…which began to glow with a purple-blue light.

There, before the mouse's awed eyes, the very air split in half: as if said invisible window opened to the world beyond, a glimmering tear materialized in the air. A sharp crackling akin to the electricity of Mr. Age's machines along with a soft twinkling akin to a hundred tiny wind chimes filled the burrow, caused by the glowing oval of sparkling purple-blue energy that lined the edges of the tear, whipping about like tongues of an open flame. Within the oval was a dark void of nothingness; a space that led to the infinite abyss on the other side of reality.

Mrs. Brisby's eyes widened in surprise, though not out of seeing the magic itself…in fact, she knew this spell. She had seen it before.

She had seen King Nicodemus use his magic to make a hole in the air just like it, during her brief time in Rosebush City. Nicodemus was a powerful sorcerer, one of the only rats in all of Nimh that could use the more powerful magics…but he was also very old, his body weak from his age. So he used magic to get things that were otherwise out of reach from wherever he was resting: she remembered seeing him use this exact same spell of making a hole in the air to retrieve items that were otherwise out of reach; he once used it to get her a pastry all the way from the royal kitchen, which was located on the other side of the castle.

It had been the first time she had ever seen magic, and the first time she had tasted the wonder of baked goods, thus she remembered it fondly.

The fairy said nothing as she continued 'opening' the portal until it was at the desired size, roughly the same as a small cupboard door. Then, as it simply putting something away, she lifted the shawl and pushed it inside; the green cloth and its contents inside appeared to dissolve entirely into the same purple-blue magic as it completely disappeared into the void, as if erased from existence itself. Once fully inside, she placed her fingers at the base of the tear and repeated the motion in reverse: like a zipper being sealed from the bottom-up, her fingers sealed the portal closed from the base to the top, leaving a single line of magical energy hanging mid-air.

Then, as if simply shooing a fly away, she waved her hand through it: the energy burst and scattered into the air in a cloud of sparkling dust, like common dust being blown off a surface, twinkling away into nothingness and leaving nothing behind. As if the tools that had been used to heal her had never existed.

As if the act of opening a door between the very realms themselves had never occurred.

Mrs. Brisby sat there in silence, staring at the spot where the hole had once been; even if she had seen it before, it was still an impressive sight to behold.

And one she didn't see very often. Most Rodentkin didn't have a very strong affinity for magic, not being as naturally-magical as Fae or other such Magic Born. Nicodemus was, by far, the most skilled magic-caster in all Ratdom, but that was thanks to his age and experience. Apart from him, only a few court wizards and a select few of the royal family could use true magic, thanks to their access to the royal library's small collection of arcane knowledge, but they were nowhere near as skilled as their king. Other than them, the only 'magicians' that really existed in the rodent-lands were traveling street performers who occasionally knew a cheap spell or two, most of their so-called skills being nothing more than cheap tricks of illusion.

Johnathan had told her that a long time ago, and with no short disdain for the fact in his voice.

But this fairy didn't look or act like royalty of any kind, and that spell was far too real to be anything of an illusionist's work. Yet she wielded it as if it was just a common act of everyday use, no more difficult than using a common household tool. Was she a skilled sorceress of her people? Or were the Fair Folk so magical that using such powerful spells was just commonplace for their kind?

The latter would explain the overall feelings of fear and mistrust Rodentkin held for the people of the forest.

There was another moment of silence before she spoke again, finally asking the question she wanted to from the start: "Who are you?"

And the answer she got was as short and simple as possible: "Zoe."

Mrs. Brisby blinked; that was a far simpler name than she was expecting for a fairy, outright plain compared to most magical names she had heard before…and most rat and mouse names she had heard before too. It was almost cute, she thought to herself.

Well, one greeting begot another, she decided. "I'm-"

"Stupid and reckless to the point of outright defying the laws of natural selection." Zoe interrupted her as she turned back to glare at her 'patient', her displeasure shown in both her face and her voice, making Mrs. Brisby flinch at her words. The winged woman retook her seat next to the bed, crossing her legs together in a very unladylike manner and folding her arms. "Let's start with the outright-painfully obvious: what in the name of the Hollow are you doing this far off the main path and in known predator grounds in the first place?! You nearly got yourself killed twice today!"

"I-I was trying to avoid the new Titan Beast!" Mrs. Brisby stammered, trying to explain even though she herself felt the foolishness of her actions. "Mr. Ages told me that a new one had come to these woods, and when I saw the footprints across the path, I panicked at the idea of it being so close to my home-!"

"And you became so focused on the big new threat that you forgot all the smaller ones that already lurk in the forest." Zoe finished for her.

The doe paused at those words, before ultimately nodding in silence, shame filling her heart. Satisfied, the fairy unfolded her arms and placed her hand in her lap, her face becoming one of light yet genuine concern. "You're unbelievably fortunate to be alive right now, especially considering how deep in the wild lands you live." She shook her head in disbelief at it all. "Titan Beasts are by no means the only predators to exist in these parts, especially towards creatures as small as mice. Predators you knew were out there but forgot to acknowledge out of blind fear…and because of that, your children almost lost their mother today…twice."

Poor Mrs. Brisby seemed to shrink in shame at the scolding, the weight of her actions only growing heavier, as was her gratitude for her unexpected savior.

"Thank you…thank you so much." She hiccupped, struggling not to cry from the sheer whirlwind of emotions in her, eyes gleaming with gratitude. "You stopped that from happening, and I can never-"

"Not me you should thank." Zoe interrupted, holding a hand up to cut her off. "I'm not the one who slew the weasels, nor the one who caught you when you fell: only the one that found you passed out and patched you up after the fact."

…

That was right…

This Zoe wasn't the one who had saved her from the weasels…or have saved her from falling off the cliff…

…Or the reason the riverbed was a massive graveya-

THE IMMOVABLE WALL OF AMETHYST-COLORED SCALES THAT TOWERED OVER HER MINUSCULE FORM.

The memories slashed through the fog of her mind like a blade through flesh, her heart seizing in her chest as the images filled her mind.

MASSIVE WINGS THAT ENCOMPASSED THE VERY SKY. AN ENDLESS TAIL THAT SHATTERED A ROCK FACE WITH A SINGLE BLOW.

She writhed in place, clutching her head and gasping for breath as her very soul was assaulted by the sensation of her confrontation in the River of Bones.

A DEADLY CROWN OF HORNS ATOP A DRACONIC HEAD, WITH JAWS POWERFUL ENOUGH TO RIP A FULL-GROWN WEASEL IN HALF WITH A SINGLE BITE.

She began to hyperventilate and thrash in bed, her heart beating so fast and hard it felt like it was going to burst. She was grasping the leaves beneath her so hard that her knuckles turned white. She didn't even notice Zoe trying to get her attention, her own face a mix of worry and confusion. She couldn't notice anything.

THE PRESENCE OF THE VERY PLANET ITSELF PRESSING DOWN ON HER, THREATENING TO CRUSH HER LIKE THE MERE, INSIGNIFICANT BUG SHE WAS. THAT ALL OF NIMH WAS!

Her every exhale was now a scream of pure, primal fear; the kind one could only feel when confronted with the end of their entire world. She couldn't even hear Zoe shouting at her at this point; she could only lay there, kicking her legs and shaking her head violently, eyes squeezed shut, as she continued to wail in utter terror of those resurfacing memories.

THE BURNING RAGE OF PRIMAL FURY WITHIN THOSE FLAMING EYES!

They were all going to die! Timothy, Teresa, Martin, Cynthia, Auntie Shrew, Mr. Ages, Justin, Everyone! Every mouse, rat, and all the other creatures of Nimh! They were all going to die! By the jaws or the flames of a force of nature given flesh, flame, and a thirst for blood: A Dragon! Nothing else but utter death and destruction for everything could be promised with the all-consuming wrath of those eyes! Those horrible, monstrous, BURNING-!

Sorrow.

Her eyes opened and she wrenched back with a heavy gasp, that one memory piercing through all the others, making her freeze and fall still on the spot. She stared at the ceiling, holding a paw over her heart, as that one little memory washed all the others away, snuffing out the fear like water washing over open flame as she remembered its eyes.

Those eyes: as beautiful as they were terrifying, evoking a sense of primal magnificence. They were the eyes of a true beast: those that were neither of animal nor of man, but something else entirely. Something ancient and unknown. And yet, even in the burning glare of the very embodiment of destruction and death…she had seen it, hidden deep within those eyes…those horrible…monstrous…sorrowful eyes. Eyes that could no longer recognize the world that it once knew and loved, no matter how hard they tried to.

Eyes that she knew all too well: that she saw every time she looked upon her own reflection.

Mrs. Brisby didn't say anything; she just lay in the bed, her fur wet from sweat. But soon enough, her heart slowly calmed down, allowing her to take a much-needed breath of relief, resting her head back on her pillow. She began to regret having gone into a panic as her wounds began to flare up again, especially in her bones and her ankle.

But even then, as it all faded back to a steady calm, she was still mentally reeling from encountering a legend in the flesh:

A Dragon. Not a giant, scarred cat that merely bore the name, but a genuine, fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding, Honest-to-Frith Dragon! Straight out of the ancient stories of old and the fairytales read to furlings at bedtime, here in Nimh!

A hundred questions flooded her mind at once: where did it come from? How did it get here? Did anybody else beside her and this Zoe fairy even know of it? Was Mr. Ages aware of the-

She perked up with realization as the pieces clicked into place: Mr. Ages! The footprints he had been studying, the animals fleeing the forest, the sense of unease she had felt during her travels…it had all been this dragon: it was the new Titan Beast that Mr. Ages had been searching for!

The 'monstrous new Titan Beast' was the very one that saved her life twice that day.

There weren't enough words in the world to describe the pure elation that flooded the mouse's chest, gasping giggles bubbling from her throat as she nearly wept from sheer, outright euphoric relief: this creature openly showed it meant her and her family no harm from the very start. There was never any danger of losing her home or her furlings to begin with. All of her worries about finding a new home, leaving the Lee of the Stone, all of it…it had all been for nothing.

Which, in turn, also meant that her decision to journey off the main path, running straight into the jaws of predators, and nearly reuniting with her husband two times in one day had also all been for nothing.

She would look back on this one day and want to smash her head against the wall out of sheer frustration.

But for now? She was just too happy to care.

She wasn't going to lose her beloved home.

"Damn…" Zoe let out a relieved breath with that word, placing a hand over her own chest as she slumped back in her seat. "I knew your reaction to Dragonfear was gonna be rough, but even I didn't think it was gonna be that intense. Just…wow." She gave a half-hearted chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "Guess he left quite the first impression, huh?"

Mrs. Brisby didn't say anything; she simply basked in the euphoric bliss of her relief, allowing herself to relax for the first time since this morning.

…this morning.

She sat up in bed, looking towards the entrance to the burrow; the light shining through it was a dimmer golden-orange color, and shining in at an angle.

"W-Wait…w-what time is it?" she asked, worry once again filling her heart.

"Late afternoon, just about evening." Zoe told her nonchalantly, motioning to the light a nod of her head. "You've been unconscious for about four hours."

The mouse nearly choked on her own squeak. "Four hours?!"I-I have to get back!"

Before Zoe could even object, Mrs. Brisby had thrown her leaf-blanket off her naked body and tried to force herself out of the bed. An action she instantly regretted as her ribs and ankle burned in protest at being moved; her head swam from the pain and she nearly fell backwards into the wall, had the fairy not caught her before she did.

"Out of the question, you're in no condition to be going anywhere!" Zoe objected firmly as she held her in place by the shoulders, preventing her from getting out of bed. "I told you: you need to stay off your ankle until it can heal!"

"You don't understand!" Mrs. Brisby cried out desperately, shaking her head as she pointed to her the stone where her belongings were laid out. "My son needs the-"

She froze, eyes going wide and her heart seizing with horror.

Her dress was laid out across the stone and her cloak was hanging on the outcrop, as they had been from the start…but that was all. Nothing else had been set there with them.

Including an very important envelope of mixed herbs.

"No…nonononono! Where is it?!" She cried out in desperation, struggling violently against the fairy's grip as she tried to pull away; she desperately gripped the front of Zoe's dress with sheer desperation in her eyes, catching the surprised fairy off-guard. "Where's the medicine?!"

"Woah, hey! Bad touch!" Zoe exclaimed as she grabbed the doe's paws and pulled them off her bodice before their claws ripped it. "What are you talking about? What medicine?"

"In the Envelope!" Mrs. Brisby sobbed as she resumed her struggles, her eyes glimmering with desperate tears. "The large white envelope Mr. Ages gave me! Did you see the envelope when you found me?! Do you have it?! Please, I'll give you anything!"

"Calm down!" Zoe urged her, trying to hold her in place again, firmly yet calmly. "Everything you had when I found you is over on the rock: just the clothes on your back. I didn't see any 'envelope' of other kind of package, bag, or anything like that."

There was a moment of dead, horror-filled silence, neither making a sound.

Then Mrs. Brisby gave a cry that could only be described as pure anguish as she pulled herself out of the fairy's grasp and threw her shaking form across the bed, curling in on herself and sobbing hysterically into the pillow of leaves; huge tears rolled down her whiskers as she cried in absolute despair. She didn't hear Zoe ask what was wrong, nor did she feel the pain in her bones. All she could feel was the complete and utter sorrow crushing her heart.

She had failed to follow the warning Mr. Ages had given her.

She had lost Timmy's medicine.

Zoe had dealt with a lot of things in her life. Truly a lot. A long lifespan, doubled with being the familiar of a legendary beast, had given her experience in many things throughout life.

A woman in hysterics was not one of them.

If there was one thing that the dragon fairy could never understand about her own sex, it the outright baffling instability of female emotions. How they could go through life with such a chaotic mess of a mind and hormones, she would never know. She didn't have much experience in them herself, despite being a girl as well; the only emotions she really understood was exasperation with the world as a whole, the outright-savage thrill of spreading terror and suffering upon said world for its crimes against her sanity, and a small bit of affection she reserved solely for Spyro and her favorite kinds of food. Other than that, she was pretty much dead on the inside, having grown thoroughly done with the world and its bullshit a long time ago.

So, when presented with the mouse that had stolen the Lee of the Stone in the middle of a complete emotional breakdown, she found herself with a notable lack of preparation to say the least.

The small rodentkin doe was outright inconsolable at this point; she curled up into a small, furry ball of despair, sobbing helplessly into her paws. The blanket had fallen off her form, revealing her nude body to the world; she didn't even notice that she was exposed, too consumed by this sudden sorrow to realize her own state of being. That's how serious the situation was.

How important this missing envelope must be.

"I'm assuming this parcel of yours was important?" Zoe asked carefully, trying to prod out an answer of some kind. The mouse lowered her paws and looked at her with wet, reddened eyes.

"I-I-It was Timmy's medicine..." She whimpered mournfully, her breathing hitching with heavy sobs.

Zoe blinked: the name 'Timmy' was new. A fourth child? That would explain her absence during that whole mess with the shrew and her trap. She hummed thoughtfully, rubbing her chin with a finger. "Have you tried Pipsissewa Root? That's good for easing sympto-"

"It's not that!" The mouse cried in desperation, sitting up with a burst of energy. "He's sick with Pneumonia!"

Silence.

"Oh."

The young doe nodded, sniffing sorrowfully. "H-He's had a fever since yesterday and none of our usual medicines were working. S-So I went to Mr. Ages for help." The more she spoke, the more her voice began to crack. "H-He told me Timmy has Pneumonia, and g-gave me the m-medicine to help h-him. He will d-die if he doesn't get it, b-b-but that medicine was t-the o-only one Mr. A-Ages could m-m-make before he left f-for Rosebush City! A-A-And he won't b-b-be back until it's t-too l-l-late!"

She covered her face with her paws and wailed openly, fresh tears running down her snout and dripping from her whiskers. "M-My boy…my baby…he's going to die without that medicine! A-And it's all my fault!"

Zoe didn't say anything.

This was none of her concern. She shouldn't get involved in this any further. She was a Dragon Fairy: her duties, her loyalties, her very purpose, all of it was dedicated to her dragon and her dragon alone. What transpired in the lives of others, be they Rodentkin, Fae, or whatever Frith-molded creature was not something she was meant to get involved with. Something she shouldn't even care about, let alone waste time and energy on. The only reason she had done so in the first place, bringing the mouse into her camp, and tending her wounds, was because Spyro had willed it so.

Otherwise, she would've left her unconscious on the forest floor back when she first came out from watching the events in the riverbed take place.

Besides, they had gotten involved with Rodentkin enough as it was, and to continue doing so only invited disaster upon them even further. The risks of Spyro being discovered by them,was high enough already, to the point Zoe believed it to be inevitable, but that didn't mean she was in a rush to make it happen. The longer they could keep Spyro a secret, the more time they had to prepare both him and Feywild for the tides of fear and anger that were bound to follow the moment the rats discovered the presence of a living dragon in their lands. They had risked enough during their brief interactions already; thank the Hollow it had been only the children that had seen Spyro the day she had been caught in that old shrew's trap, or that 'first meeting of worlds' would've ended very differently.

Spyro could not get involved with the Rodentkin…should not get involved with them. He had suffered too much already: the failed mission, the exile, the bloody war and all its horrors. They had just gotten back, and they hadn't had time to even begin healing his wounds, mental or emotional.

They needed to stay away. They had nothing to gain from aiding them, and only everything to lose…

…But of all diseases…it just had to be Pneumonia, didn't it?

Zoe had, indeed, dealt with many things in her life.

Some of which she wouldn't wish on anyone else.

"When do you remember still having it last?" The fairy asked in a careful, uncertain tone, as if torn on the decision to ask at all.

Mrs. Brisby wiped her eyes with her paws, gasping weak sobs as she struggled to calm down and think of the answer to that question. Both proved to be a difficult task in itself, as her every thought was filled with the horrible knowledge that Timmy was going to die: images of her baby boy, precious and fragile, wasting away in his bed haunted her every thought, wrenching her heart and making it even harder to recall the events before.

"I…I-I had it with me when the weasels attacked." She explained, collecting her thoughts the best she could through all her turmoil. "I-I remember tucking the envelope into my cloak so it wouldn't fall out when I was running on all fours." She rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, sniffling pathetically. "I-I had it with me when I ran up the log, I know that much, b-because I was holding it to keep from tearing it. A-And then I…I-I…"

The mouse froze, eyes going wide as what happened next took center stage in her mind's eyes.

She had jumped from the log and tumbled down the side of the cliff: a long, painful tumble that had thrown her head over heels several times, crashing through rocks and the bones of the dead animals that filled the dried river.

She swallowed hard, realization, fear, and just a touch of hope filling her heart.

"I-It's back in the River of Bones. Where I fell."

Zoe blinked at that, glancing to the side in thought. "Huh…The River of Bones…" She murmured, smirking with approval. "…I like it; a nice ring of forebode and dread."

Mrs. Brisby couldn't even begin to see what was so appealing about a literal river of death. But she didn't get a chance to say anything as the winged woman stood up, lifting her arms for a large stretch that was very unladylike, stretching the stiffness out of her back and legs.

"Welp, we better get go get it now, while they're still daylight."

Dread seized the mouse's heart at those words

"Y-Y-You mean g-go b-back to that graveyard?!" She stammered, vehemently shaking her head no. "I can't go back there! I can't!"

"You want to save your son's life, don't you?" Zoe asked, rolling her eyes in annoyance. Mrs. Brisby flinched, but softly nodded yes. "Then you don't have a choice…" The fairy stated simply. Her almost-harsh tone melted into concern, and she gave a heavy sigh. "I was hoping to keep you off your feet until you recovered, but if what you say is true…then I'm afraid I don't have a choice either."

She offered her hand. "Think you can walk with those ribs and that leg?"

"I c-can try." Mrs. Brisby stammered, giving the hand her paw.

It was an odd sensation as the human hand wrapped around her paw; the skin of it was smooth and hairless, almost slick to the touch, with longer grasping fingers more akin to the claws of a bird; very different than those of the rodentkin. With a surprising amount of gentle strength, Zoe slowly lifted her off the bed and back onto her feet…or foot, really; she gave a pained whine as her bad leg flared under the pressure, forcing her to lean her weight against her good leg, only able to use the other to keep her footing.

With a little help from the fairy she was able to stand with little pain, her ribs only slightly agitated by the pressure of her weight on her spine.

It was then, when she was finally able to stand again, was the mouse able to see just how tall her new 'friend' was. Mice had always been the smallest of the Rodentkin, and she herself was not a big mouse, so it wasn't the fact she was taller than was surprising. But having heard stories of the 'Little People of the Forest' throughout her life, she had always pictured them being as small as them, if not even smaller. That was clearly not the case, as Zoe was as tall as the average rat, about the same height Justin was. Mrs. Brisby had to lean her head back to look up at her, her own head only reaching up to the fairy's stomach, her ear-tips just reaching her bosom.

The fairy nodded with approval before stepping back. "Well, you can stand. That's as good a sign as any…and it will have to do," she told her as she turned away, gathering the mouse's dress and cloak off the rock. "Between the two of us, we should be able to find it and get your back to the Stone before nightfall."

There was still one problem, though. One very big, very powerful, purple problem.

"But what about the Dragon?" She asked, that lingering image of his sad eyes once again passing through her mind.

Zoe froze mid step, her shoulders tensing hard as stone. Any dread of 'potential danger' quickly vanished from Mrs. Brisby's mind as the very air felt as if it had dropped twenty degrees in temperature, her fur standing on end from the sheer aura of cold malice that radiated off the fairy standing in front of her, quickly feeling as if she was cornered by a hungry cat.

Then, as quickly as it came, it vanished. She could almost see the angry tension leave Zoe's body as she took a deep, deliberate breath, slowly yet forcefully letting it out in a long exhale.

Then the fairy promptly threw her clothes at her, catching her off guard and making her yelp in surprise as her dress and cloak slapped her across the front with a muffled 'thwump' of cloth and wrapped around her like a python, completely engulfing her from the stomach up. She staggered backwards in a clumsy hop, keeping off her bad foot, as she struggled to free herself from her own garments, her voice muffled by the fabric.

She manage to poke her head free just in time to see Zoe clasp her hands together and give her what looked like a warm smile, but sent icy shivers down her spine.

"I'm going to cut you some slack just this once, given everything you've been through today." She told her in a far-too sweet and 'deliberately-friendly' manner. "But speak ill of my charge and master again, and I'll pluck every last strand of fur off your body and make you eat them. Do you understand?"

Mrs. Brisby squeaked nervously, nodding frantically as she pushed her clothes down off herself. Zoe nodded in turn with approval before turning her back to the mouse, standing in silence. For a moment, Mrs. Brisby wondered what she was doing, until it clicked that she was waiting for her to get dressed, giving her the privacy to do so.

Blushing bright red under her fur, she murmured her thanks as she began to dress herself.

But that had confirmed it: Zoe's words regarding the dragon. As she pulled her head through the neck of her dress, she found herself staring at the back of the fairy's head, or more precisely at the pair of draconian horns poking out of her hair.

Horns that were an all-too familiar shape.

This fairy knew of the Dragon. Not just knew of it, but was associated with it; for Frith's sake, she had dragon horns!

Not only that, but she had outright called it Master.

What on earth did that entail? Was she a servant of the dragon? Did she serve the beast like some sort of great Dragon God? And if so, was it just her or did all fairies worship him like she did? Was that why the Fair Folk had closed their borders to all Rodentkin for all these years: to keep its presence a secret from the rest of Nimh? How long had it been living in the forest, then? How long had the fairies been raising a living force of nature within fire-breathing distance of the Empire?

Had Johnathan known about it?

Surely, he would've said something if he had; even if he had friends amongst the fairies, something like this was far too big to the Rodentkin to keep secret. At the very least, he would've told her, and not moved his family out into its territory.

But if this was its territory, then surely they would've seen it by now, wouldn't they? Where had it been for the past nine years they had been living under the Stone? Such a large creature would've been impossible to miss for so long: its size and brilliant color alone made it stand out enough, but the sheer presence of power that radiated from its form was as subtle as an erupting volcano or approaching tsunami.

She shivered at the memory of being in that presence; the tremendous invisible weight so heavy that it nearly crushed her where she lay on the ground. Those massive jaws dripping with the blood of the wood's most common predator turned prey. And the bright, all-consumed fire of rage that burned within those fierce, draconian eyes.

…those sad, longing, pain-filled eyes.

Another stab of pain filled her heart as her mind once again locked on the memory of seeing the sorrow within the dragon's eyes as he (not it…he) had lifted her to safety.

She paused slipping her arm into her sleeves, staring forward into nothingness as she felt a hot sadness of her own bubble within her chest and up her throat; out of everything she had seen of him…his size, his power, his monstrous form, his remorseless ferocity, his hunger for flesh, his primal rage…it was that one moment stood out above all the rest. Even all that she had seen before that moment was the one that clung to her mind, and every time it did so she felt the same ache in her own heart.

What was this pain? And why toward a dragon of all things? Why was she feeling this way to begin with? Yes, she could understand the pain in those eyes, even relate and sympathize with it to a degree, but it wasn't as though there was anything she could do.

She was a mouse, and he was a dragon. They were creatures of two entirely different worlds. Beings that had nothing in common, with no connection to each other outside of being polar opposites of the food chain.

So why on earth was she so drawn to those eyes?

To him?

"What's with that look?"

Zoe's voice broke through her inner turmoil, causing her to jump a little in surprise; she looked up to see the fairy giving her a perplexed stare, unsure of what to make of the face she must've been making during her conflicted train of thought. She blinked a few times, clearing her head of her thoughts as she slipped her last arm through her sleeve, finally slipping her dress back on and herself into a comfortable state of modesty.

"S-Sorry." Mrs. Brisby stammered as she wrapped her cloak around herself, tying it off around her neck. "I was lost in thought."

"If he wanted to hurt you, he is more than capable of doing so. " Zoe told her; she seemed to guess what said thought was about, to an extent as least. "And he would've done so from the start…but he didn't. Quite the contrary: he saved your life today. Twice. That in itself should be proof enough that he means you no harm."

Mrs. Brisby relaxed a little at those words, but still looked conflicted.

"But...but what do I do if he comes back?" She asked, this time carefully; a strong gut feeling told her the fairy's previous threat was by no means empty. "What should I say? Or do?"

Zoe stared at her for a moment of silence. Her face was decidedly unreadable, but her eyes were those of someone experiencing a strong internal debate; even just looking into them, the doe could outright see her struggling to decide whether or not she should say anything at all. If she should allow her and her family to be involved with this anymore than they already were. And for a moment, she looked as if she wasn't going to say anything at all.

But even she could tell that there wasn't a choice anymore: the fairy closed her eyes and gave a heavy sigh of resignation, rubbing her right temple with her fingers.

Then she looked to the young mother and spoke a single word:

"Spyro."

Mrs. Brisby blinked, taken aback with visible confusion. "What?"

"That's his name." Zoe told her as she turned her back to the mouse, glancing one last time over her shoulder as she made her way around the campfire. "If we comes across him while we're there, and we're not together for whatever reason, address him as such. He'll know where you learned it."

Spyro.

Mrs. Brisby barely registered the fairy's departure as she stared into the embers of the now-dying fire; leaving her to take in the name of the one who would change not just her life, but the lives of everyone on Nimh forever.

Something warm flickered in her chest as she quietly mouthed the name under her breath, and she found herself smiling just a little at the way it sounded in her voice: the Dragon...the legendary creature of fire and destruction, the newest Titan Beast of Nimh, and perhaps the most terrifying creature she had ever seen in her life...

His name was Spyro.