The lizard remained on the table for a moment.
The child kept reaching, tiny hands stretching upward with persistence.
"trying to climb," it thought.
No threat.
Curiosity.
It unfolded its wings and leapt.
Air caught beneath them.
Controlled glide.
It crossed the room and landed on the upper edge of the bed frame.
Balanced.
Observing.
The child stopped climbing.
She looked up, red eyes wide.
The lizard remained still.
"let's see if it climbs," it thought.
The child moved again.
Small steps.
Then she reached the bed.
Hands gripping the edge.
Pulling herself upward.
Slow.
Determined.
She managed to climb onto the mattress.
Her head tilted back.
She looked up at the lizard perched above.
Hand raised.
"White."
Clear.
Recognition.
The lizard stared down at her.
No immediate response.
"It's persistent," it thought.
Not dangerous.
Not unwanted.
Just small.
And trying to connect.
The fox on the bed stirred slightly, eyes half-open as she continued circulating qi to heal.
She noticed the scene.
"Looks like she really likes you," she murmured.
The lizard did not answer.
It watched the child.
She reached upward again.
Not grabbing.
Just touching the air.
Calling the name.
"White."
The sound registered.
A label.
A call.
It remained where it was.
No movement.
No hostility.
The lizard remained on the upper edge of the bed frame.
Noise reduced.
Sight unnecessary.
It listened.
Heartbeats.
Soft footsteps.
The child's voice.
"White."
Again.
And again.
Persistent.
Calling.
The lizard did not respond.
"no need," it thought.
It stayed still.
Unmoving.
The child searched with her eyes, looking around the room.
Confusion.
She looked up where it had been.
Nothing.
Her small hands reached into the air.
"White."
No answer.
She called again.
"White."
The lizard observed.
Her expression changed.
Eyes widening.
Lip trembling.
Then—
Tears.
They came suddenly.
Small at first.
Then faster.
She rubbed her eyes, but they kept coming.
Her voice cracked.
"White…"
The sound was different now.
Not curiosity.
Not excitement.
Hurt.
The fox on the bed opened one eye, sensing the shift.
She looked at the child.
Then toward the empty space where the lizard remained invisible.
"Seems she doesn't like you disappearing," she said softly.
The lizard listened.
The crying continued.
Unfamiliar sound.
Uncomfortable.
Not danger.
But disturbance.
"why," it thought.
It had not attacked.
Had not left permanently.
Only become invisible.
Yet the child cried.
The lizard remained still.
Observing.
Trying to understand.
The child continued crying.
Small sobs.
Tears falling.
Her hands reached upward again and again, searching for something that was no longer visible.
"White," she called.
Voice shaking.
"White…"
The lizard remained invisible.
Ears folded tightly.
Noise.
Unpleasant.
Not threat.
But persistent.
It did not move.
"ignore it," it thought.
No action required.
It had not harmed her.
Had not left the room.
Only disappeared from sight.
The crying continued.
The fox on the bed lifted her head slightly, turquoise eyes narrowing.
She looked at the child.
Then at the empty space where the lizard remained.
A faint sigh.
"She really is attached."
The child kept crying.
Small shoulders shaking.
Red eyes blurred with tears.
"White…"
The lizard listened.
Uncomfortable.
Not because of danger.
Because the sound persisted.
It had no solution.
No instruction.
No understanding of why its absence caused distress.
"no threat," it thought.
Yet the crying remained.
The fox shifted on the bed.
"Little White," she said softly, addressing the invisible lizard.
"Maybe show yourself."
Not command.
Suggestion.
The lizard considered.
Visibility.
Interaction.
If appearing stopped the crying—
It would be simpler.
It released invisibility.
Light bent back to normal.
Its small form became visible again on the bed frame.
Golden eyes looking down.
Ears still slightly folded.
The child noticed immediately.
Her head snapped up.
Tears still on her cheeks.
"White."
Relief and excitement mixed in her voice.
She reached upward.
The lizard remained still.
No retreat this time.
"better," it thought.
Not because it enjoyed being reached for.
But because the crying stopped.
The fox watched, expression softening slightly.
"See?" she murmured.
"She just wanted you here."
The lizard processed the information.
Desire for presence.
Not harm.
Human behavior.
Unfamiliar.
But manageable.
It stayed where it was.
Allowing the child to reach.
Observation continued.
The child stood on the bed, tiny hand still reaching upward.
"white… white…"
Her voice was softer now—no crying, only persistent calling.
Then her foot slipped.
Small balance lost.
She toppled forward.
The lizard reacted before thought.
Lightning crackled faintly across its scales.
Not an attack.
A burst of speed.
It descended in a blur and caught her mid-fall.
Small paws gripped the collar of her clothing, lifting her gently.
Her body hung in the air for a brief moment—weightless.
The lizard hovered, wings steady.
She blinked.
Then looked around in surprise.
She was off the ground.
Held.
Not falling.
Her red eyes widened and a giggle escaped her.
Delight.
No fear.
She reached upward again, this time toward the lizard's face.
"White!"
The lizard remained still.
Holding her securely.
Not tight.
Not rough.
Just enough to keep her safe.
The child laughed softly, small hands grasping at the air near the lizard's head.
"White."
The name again.
Happy.
The lizard's ears twitched.
It looked down at her.
She was light.
Harmless.
Not prey.
Not threat.
It adjusted its grip slightly, keeping her balanced.
That was enough.
The child giggled again, reaching toward its horn.
The lizard tilted its head away slightly—habit—but did not release her.
Interaction.
Strange.
But the crying had stopped.
That mattered.
The fox stretched lightly on the bed.
"Seems you're a natural babysitter," she murmured.
The lizard ignored the comment.
It hovered, holding the child.
She looked up at it, smiling.
"white."
The word repeated.
The lizard stared back.
No response.
But it remained.
For now.
"my body just reacted on its own without thinking," it thought.
Why.
No calculation.
No instruction.
Movement before reasoning.
It had caught the child without deliberate choice.
Instinct.
Response.
But to what?
"why is that," it thought.
The child was small.
Harmless.
Not threat.
That alone did not explain the reaction.
It descended gently and dropped her onto the bed.
Landing softly beside her.
She giggled.
Reached upward.
Called the name.
"white."
The lizard remained still.
It analyzed the moment.
Body movement without command.
Not technique.
Not survival calculation.
Something closer to reflex.
But based on what?
The child's fall had triggered it.
Impact avoidance.
Preservation.
That made logical sense.
Prevent injury.
But the speed of the response…
Lightning before thought.
As if the action existed prior to reasoning.
"the child," it thought.
Small.
Fragile.
Crying earlier.
Now smiling.
Its mind continued to wrestle with the question.
Was it the child's nature that evoked the reaction?
Or something deeper?
A principle of protection?
Or simple anomaly?
It observed her.
No threat.
No need for continued analysis of the instinct.
Yet the question remained.
"why did i act," it thought.