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Long story short: Life is crazy. Hence the long wait again.

Short story long: Brisbane, Australia, just went through recent severe flooding, meaning I couldn't get home for more than a week and I had no access to my computer. I'm hoping to have the next chapter written over the next week and a much quicker update! To anyone new reading this or anticipating updates, I appreciate the endless patience and support!


"Miss Mira!"

As Lucien, one of the three-year-old's in the school came running towards her, Mira couldn't help but think back on the first time she'd been here, riddled with anxiety. She'd almost run back out of the door, in truth; her pride and stubbornness were the only reason she had not.

From that day, it had been non-stop. She spent her mornings down in Myles' gym, before heading over to Kiva's. There, she'd either help with the garden or get an impromptu less in modern medicine. In the afternoons, she shadowed Mrs Ashford to the school. Her nights, she spent watching the sun go down from the lookout, before heading back to Myles.

All of it—routine, certainty—was a total parallel to her life before. Sometimes, she struggled to believe it was her life now.

Bending down now, Mira met Lucien at eye level, raising an eyebrow. "What's in your hand?"

"It's me!" He held out lump of black and white play-doh, with feather stuck all over. "See?"

Without the knowledges that Lucien was a hare shifter, she wouldn't have been able to see at all. Still, she smiled wideIy. "It's wonderful."

"Can I make one for you, too?"

At that, her grin dropped. For a moment, her heart ceased beating. While she'd gotten more comfortable around other shifters thanks to the interaction with these children, the reminder of what she was—or wasn'tremained ever-pressing.

Covering the reaction, she asked as evenly as she could, "Do you think you can make a coyote?"

There was no waver in her voice, and for that she was glad. As time went on, she was finding little ways to honour her father's memory, rather than bury her grief in denial. This was another chance to do so. No matter how small the step, progress was still progress.

Lucien stared at her for a minute longer, blinking rapidly. Then, leaving his "hare" still in Mira's hands, he shouted intelligibly, turned and dashed back the way he'd come. Mira watching him disappear around the corner, getting to her feet.

Left on her own, she glanced around the wide, high-set hallway. The space was sparsely furnished, aside from the hanging racks along the grey walls and the in-built shelving unit adjacent to the door. Three oversized photo canvases of the mountains hung on the walls. Children's bags and jackets were piled up on the shelves.

To the right, she heard voices from behind the ajar door. One she recognised as Mrs Ashford. The others were likely educators she'd yet to meet. Heading in that direction, Mira removed her own jacket, hanging it over one of the empty hooks.

Before she could open the door, Mrs Ashford was there. "Hey. How were the roads?"

"Slippery," said Mira, "but otherwise okay."

Slowly, she was getting used to driving. She'd always known how, but it had been more of a matter of the opportunity never being there. Now that Myles had given her access to the car he didn't use, she went out in it daily. The conditions here, were the problem. A snow storm overnight, whether heavy or light, changed the surface of the road so dramatically.

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