Sculpted In starlight

Ryan? Nora's voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back into the moment. "We should charge the drone and throw together an adventure loadout."

I blinked, a little dazed. "Huh?"

She gave a soft, knowing laugh, clearly trying to ease the tension. "Eventually, you're going to have to go out there and find her. Having a bag prepared for that kind of outing would be helpful, don't you think?"

I couldn't really argue with her logic. I did want to explore, but the thought of meeting Ella still left me feeling uneasy.

It would take time to adjust. "What are you suggesting?" I asked.

Nora tilted her head, running through her list. "A change of clothes, extra batteries, a flashlight, snacks or food depending on how soon you're ready. Maybe pack a firearm—something small, like a pistol—along with a knife, a sleeping bag, a holster. And don't forget the drone Ethan gave you after it's fully charged."

She paused, then added, "Oh, and Ethan forgot to mention that the remote doubles as a portable battery, so we should charge that too."

As I processed the list, I felt the weight of the reality setting in. She was right—being prepared would make things easier. But then Nora hesitated, as if searching for the right words.
"Ryan, hear me out," she began carefully, almost as if trying to soften what was coming. "Maybe consider packing... lube to?"
I blinked, taken aback by the sudden suggestion.

She quickly clarified, her voice laced with a touch of embarrassment. "You know, because Mrs. Walkers suggested that Ella wouldn't understand human social norms the first time you meet. She'll probably, uh, steal your family's secret formula." Nora's voice trailed off, and I could tell she realized how awkward it sounded. "I just thought... it might help you both in the long run."

I could see her wince as she said it, clearly realizing how poorly that had come out. "I didn't mean to make things uncomfortable," she added quickly, her usual confidence replaced with uncertainty. "I just want to make sure you're as prepared as possible."

Nora did have a point, as uncomfortable as it made me. But the idea of wandering through the woods with everything hanging out like I was some kind of walking target didn't sit well with me. The thought alone made my skin crawl, and I could almost feel the embarrassment burning in my cheeks.
I sighed, rubbing my face, and waved my hand dismissively. "Whatever you think is necessary," I muttered, trying to push past the discomfort.

Nora immediately started gathering things going into my room before heading to the stairwell bringing one of my backpacks downstairs to the basement.

Turning around, I caught the last light of the sun filtering through the trees behind the house, casting a warm, amber glow that bled softly into the space around me. The sunset offered a rare, fleeting moment of peace amidst all the chaos, and I found myself just standing there for a second, letting it soothe my nerves.

After a moment, I shook myself from the calm that I had allowed to settle over me and decided to focus on something productive. "I think I'm going to make dinner," I said aloud.

The idea of cooking felt like a small refuge from everything swirling in my head, something I could control. I headed into the kitchen, the quiet hum of the house surrounding me. I'd decided on something simple—a basic chicken breast. The familiarity of the dish felt grounding, even if it was just an excuse to focus on the task at hand.

I grabbed the chicken breasts crouching down to the refrigerated cabinets, their smooth, pale surface glistening under the soft light. I set them down on the counter and rinsed them off, the cold water running over the flesh before I patted them dry with a paper towel. The sharp scent of raw meat filled the air, but it was oddly calming in its simplicity.