Prologue - Camp

The breeze came from the sea.

I know that sounds obvious, but I don’t just mean the direction. It carried something with it. Like someone a long time ago was trying to send a message, which became nothing but specks of sea salt and kelp. And me? I was just passing through it - really, I was drifting. A piece of driftwood that hadn’t quite decided where to wash up just yet. Whatever it said, I sure as hell don't remember.

The shoreline isn’t much to look at if you’re only chasing something loud. But I wasn’t. I wanted stillness. Somewhere to recenter, figure out where I was... Who I was.

I found it where the trees gave up a little, enough to let the sun kiss a patch of grass near the river. The place was woody, dense in some spots, but cracked open here into a clearing. A small river flowed into the bank, like it had plans to move on. Near the edge, a tree leaned into the coast.

That’s where I sat. In its shade, fishing rod in hand, line cast into the shimmering blue.

I don’t know where I came from. Only that I woke up with wet boots, sore limbs, and the faint smell of brine behind my eyes. A part of me says I should care more about it. The missing pieces. But right now, the hunger bar was blinking low, and fish didn’t ask questions.

So I waited. And I breathed.

Until laughter cracked through the calm.

It wasn’t close. Not right away. Just a ripple of sound further up the clearing. It was deep enough in the woods to be curious, but not threatening. I reeled in slow, pausing only to toss the fish into a shallow basin of water I’d dug earlier. I didn’t need trouble. But maybe... maybe I needed company.

I moved quiet. Years at sea, or wherever I’d been, must’ve taught me how to do that. Who was I before? I crept past the reeds and up a slope, just enough to peer through a break in the trees. I used my hand to measure how much light I let through. Dimmer, dimmer, then clear.

Three of them. Two crouched low, giggling - one with soft, feathery pink hair that caught the sun, and another with short, curled brown hair and mischief in their eyes. They circled a tree like hunters with a plan... Leaned against the trunk, a face half-covered by a worn brown beanie, was a third fast asleep.

I watched the smaller one slip a pie into the sleeper’s hands, then ever-so-gently scratch their nose.

I didn’t know what was funnier, the setup or the eruption of confusion when whipped cream met face. But I let out a snort I couldn’t hold back. The pink head whipped around, their ears sensitive to the smallest peep. Those soft eyes sharp now, feathers pointing up.

I hadn't known what type of person they were at the time, but those eyes... I'm not psychic.

“Who's there!”

Leaves rustled. I didn’t run. Again, I looked at my hand. Lighter, lighter, solid.

What followed was a strange kind of introduction: wary at first, then warmer. Fizz, the pink-haired one with wings folded neat behind her ears. Toni, the instigator, with a smaller pair of wings behind his. And the one with cream still on their lip? Pon. I'm sure he's going to have fun getting the cream out from his fur. They'd been wandering, they said. Found this clearing just as I did.

They asked where I came from. I told them the truth.

“I woke up down the shoreline, with a mouthful of salt. The only thing I remember... is the sea. I - I don't know where I came from.”

They didn’t question me. Just nodded, like that made sense to them somehow.

"I've heard worse!" Fizz chimed.

The sun started dipping. Someone mentioned camp. And just like that, it was decided. We agreed from our shared hunger and half-smiles.

We fished. Gathered cobblestone. Built up a little fire pit. Strung up some crude shelter between trees. It wasn’t much, but it felt like something. That's all that mattered then.

Pon stayed close. We compared catches, debated over bait, argued over who was cheating with bread crumbs. When their rod started to splinter, they excused themself to grab more string.

That left me. Just me. Shore, tree, line.

And peace.

I leaned back, letting the quiet wrap around me. For the first time in… I don’t know how long, I didn’t feel like a ghost floating past the world.

Maybe I didn’t need to know where I came from. Maybe fate has funny ways of throwing people together. And maybe… just maybe… I could stay. I think I could be happy here. Make some new friends. Did I have friends?

I cast another line. The water shimmered. Looked like the sea was smiling.

Then...

“Oof!”

It was fast. A shadow. A blur. The sun caught it just right. Just enough to blind me. Then a crash.

Pon was on the ground, groaning. Someone had fallen on them. I phased just in time, instinct maybe, but it didn’t matter. They still hit hard.

Wings. Broken. Goggles askew. A pilot speaking like a sailor.

“Fuckin' gust! Air pockets in my feathers! God had it out for me, I swear!”

Fizz, Toni, and Pon surrounded her fast, helping her sit up, dust off. She cursed again. “Vanilla,” she called herself, like it was both her name and her latest frustration. We introduced ourselves, exchanged stories, and made another friend.

Camp came alive again after that. More laughter. More stories. Even a few shared opinions. Toni cracked more jokes. Fizz poked the fire with a stick like she could get it to confess. Digi mended their rod with Vanilla’s help, who despite her grumbling, seemed to know her way around knots.

I watched from just beyond the firepit, fingers still wrapped around my fishing rod, the line forgotten in the waves.

Four of them now. Different origins, different skies. But something about the way they looked at each other made something settle in my chest. Home?

This might not be the place I was meant for. But it’s the one I have now.

And maybe that’s enough.

Funny winds, huh? I wonder who else is drifting out there.