The contest had soon concluded, and the clearing buzzed with excitement, the tension lingering in the air like the fading echoes of a storm. Icemoon, her scales still tinged with frost, moved off to the edge of the gathering, eager to escape the prying eyes that followed her every movement. The whispers didn't stop, the curiosity about her magic palpable in every glance thrown her way. They didn't understand what she was—they didn't know what an Animus could do, but the unease, the wonder, was there all the same.

She had never been comfortable under the weight of so many stares, and today was no different. The cool night air brushed against her, but even the breeze couldn't chase away the heat of suspicion clinging to her like a shadow.

Just as she was about to take flight, her wings unfurling with the soft rustle of feathers, a voice stopped her. A voice that made her pause and turn, a voice filled with something more than concern.

"Icemoon," Tsunami said, her tone sharp but tinged with something softer. "Why haven't you told us?"

Icemoon froze, her tail lashing instinctively. She hadn't expected this—not from Tsunami, of all dragons. Her heart skipped a beat, a dull ache spreading through her chest. Tsunami stood there, her powerful frame tense, but her eyes—those usually bright, fierce eyes—looked... broken. Something about Tsunami's expression cut through her icy exterior, leaving a vulnerability that Icemoon hadn't known how to handle.

"Aren't we your family? Your friends?" Tsunami's voice cracked slightly, the words tumbling out as if she was struggling to breathe them into existence.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Icemoon found herself speechless. The air around her grew cold as her thoughts scrambled for something, anything to say. But how could she explain? How could she tell them—tell Tsunami—that the very magic in her veins was a curse as much as a gift, that the blood of Darkstalker ran through her, corrupting her even as it granted her power?

Tsunami took a step closer, her gaze softening, but there was still a tremor in her voice. "You don't have to carry this alone, you know. We're your friends. We're your family."

Icemoon's heart clenched, her claws digging into the earth beneath her as she looked away, unable to meet the dragoness's gaze. The guilt gnawed at her—Tsunami's words were so simple, but they made her feel more isolated than ever. She could see the hurt in Tsunami's eyes, the unspoken question—Why didn't you trust me?

"I didn't... I didn't want anyone to look at me differently," Icemoon finally said, her voice small, trembling with something she couldn't hide. "I didn't want you to see me as... him." Her eyes flashed, her voice breaking as she uttered the name she feared the most. "Darkstalker."

Tsunami's expression softened, and she stepped forward, placing a gentle claw on Icemoon's shoulder. "Icemoon, you're not him," she said firmly. "You're not your father. You're a part of this family, and no magic—no bloodline—will change that."

But Icemoon couldn't bring herself to believe that. Not yet.

Icemoon sighed, a heavy, drawn-out breath that seemed to carry the weight of all her unspoken fears. She dipped her head, her pale-blue scales shimmering faintly in the moonlight as she spoke softly, her words barely more than a whisper.

"I need time alone. Make sure that Glory becomes the queen of the RainWings," she murmured, her voice raw, edged with the sharpness of regret. She didn't wait for Tsunami's response—didn't want to hear it, not just yet. She wasn't ready to confront the truth that was gnawing at her from the inside. So, with a last glance toward the clearing, where the laughter and clamor of the contest still echoed, she unfurled her wings.

The air grew cooler as she took flight, her wings cutting through the sky with practiced ease. Below, the village shrank into a distant blur, the lights of the torches flickering like dying embers. Icemoon didn't look back. She couldn't.

The rainforest loomed ahead, dark and vast, an endless stretch of green that called to her like an old friend. The branches swayed in the wind, the leaves whispering secrets only they understood. As she flew deeper into the thick of it, the sounds of the village faded away, replaced by the soft rustling of the trees and the distant croak of frogs hidden beneath the underbrush.

She didn't have a destination in mind—not really. She just needed to be alone. To breathe without the weight of their expectations pressing down on her, to let the quiet of the forest fill the space in her chest where doubt and guilt had taken root.

As Icemoon disappeared into the shadows of the jungle, her heart felt a little lighter, but the ache of Tsunami's words lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe someday, she'd be ready to face them—her friends, her family. Maybe someday, she'd be able to show them that she wasn't Darkstalker, that she wasn't the monster she feared she might become.

But for now, the rainforest was enough. It offered solace in its silence, in the dark places where she could still hide from herself.