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Two weeks. Two melancholy weeks of trudging through grief and snow. The only thing keeping Zephyr from spiraling into that hole of sadness was Tib. Next to his, her grief was nothing. And even though he was too young, too heartbroken to understand, Zephyr thanked the stars every day that he was at least old enough, if barely, to hold on to some of the memories of his parents.

The first few days after finding the caravan had been the worst. Tib's anguish tore through their entire group, wave after wave of small, terrified sobs. At first, he would only allow Jasper to hold him, wouldn't ride or sleep next to anyone else. Zephyr figured the boy saw Jasper as his hero, the one who had pulled him up out of that wagon compartment with the moonlight shining like a halo. And for those days Zephyr felt useless. Saria and Bennet tried to pull her out of the depression she was quickly falling into, but she just couldn't force herself to engage with them.

Finally, after a week of following east along the Faron river, Zephyr saw two figures approaching where she sat on the riverbank. Pulling her eyes from the current rushing past, so strong even the chill of winter couldn't stop it, Zephyr saw Jasper spread a blanket out next to her. Tib proceeded to plop down next to her. She gave him a small smile before turning her gaze back to the water.

A small hand reached out to hold Zephyr's, and she felt that familiar sting of tears. She closed her eyes to hold them back, taking a deep breath that was shakier than she would have liked. She heard Jasper clear his throat and take a seat on the blanket next to Tib.

"He said you looked sad," Jasper began, his voice straining a bit. "He said you probably missed momma and daddy, and now we need to make you feel better too." Zephyr began to sniffle as Tib leaned his head onto her arm. She squeezed his small hand in hers, taking another deep breath. As a tear leaked out and fell down her cheek, stinging a bit in the cold air, Zephyr felt the pressure of Jasper's arm around her shoulder. And for the first time in a week, Zephyr felt some of the pain retreat. She opened her eyes, wiped away her tears with her free hand, and looked to Jasper. He gave her a small smile.

They sat there for a while longer, the sunlight fading slowly, the air growing almost too chill to be away from the fires. Zephyr found her mind straying to her own family. She had nothing of them. Not a single memory from before Agitha had found her. She couldn't stand the thought of the same happening to the little boy next to her.

"Tib," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she gave him a little nudge with her arm. He looked up to her, those big, child-like eyes threatening to break her heart again at the unfairness of it all. "Tib, I have an idea." She waited for him to respond but her just kept on staring up at her. She looked to Jasper, who nodded, so she took that as a sign that she should go on.

"I know you used to love bedtime stories," Zephyr continued. "Your momma told me that you liked to tell them." She paused, and Tib gave an almost imperceptible nod. Zephyr drew in a breath to steady her voice. "Would you mind telling me a bedtime story?" Tib sat still for a long moment. Zephyr had almost given up on the idea when he gave her another of his tiny nods.

Zephyr's heart was beating fast, afraid she was going to push the boy too far, too fast. She tried anyway.

"Could you tell me a story about momma and daddy?"

She felt Tib's body go rigid next to her. Jasper seemed to be holding his breath as he gave her a questioning look. Not meeting his eyes, Zephyr turned so that she could look straight into the face of the younger boy. He was now gazing out toward the river, a distant look in his gaze. Zephyr held her own breath in anticipation, not taking her eyes off his face. Tib finally took in his own deep breath before meeting her gaze.

"Okay."

Hearing his small voice directed at her for the first time in a week almost broke her again. Zephyr forced a smile to her lips and drew Tib into a fierce hug.

"Let's go get you ready for bed then and you can tell me one of those bedtime stories you're famous for," Zephyr said as she stood, pulling the small boy into her arms as she did. He allowed her to pick him up as Jasper grabbed their blanket and shook the snow out.

A while later, as Zephyr stood up from where Tib had fallen asleep, Jasper reached out to stop her.

"Why did you want a story about his parents?" he asked her quietly, the glow of the fire close by illuminating one half of his face. Zephyr shrugged, her hand falling from his grasp.

"I don't have any stories of my own parents," she began, feeling the warmth of the fire against her own face as she turned toward it. "I want to help Tib keep as many as he can. If he tells them to us maybe it will help him to remember."

And so that was how they spent every evening for the next week, and each evening Tib became more and more animated as he told Zephyr and Jasper about his parents adventures. After a couple of days, Saria and Bennet and a few of the other refugees from Faron began to join the group. Tib finally began to open up to people besides Jasper, though he still fell asleep in Jasper's arms in the middle of every story.

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