Work Text:
The winter air bites at Cassie’s cheeks as she stands just outside Dragon Land’s singing glade, her tiny fingers twisting the hem of her scarf. February sunlight slants through the ice-laced branches above, casting fractured patterns across the snow where Zak and Wheezie crouch—unseen—behind a frosted bush.
Cassie’s voice, usually trembling, lifts clear and bright into the cold, a lullaby her grandmother taught her when the nights were long. Wheezie’s tail stops mid-wag. Cassie’s eyes—huge, liquid gold in the pale light—aren’t just looking at the sky anymore; they’re shimmering, alive with something warmer than the winter sun.
The notes hang between them like melting icicles, and for once, Wheezie doesn’t interrupt. She just watches, breath caught, as Cassie’s whole face glows.