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Just silence.

Damn it.

With a violent jolt, my ship broke through the atmosphere of the unknown planet below. The Prowler’s hull screamed as it tore through the upper layers, friction building until the temperature gauges exploded in a shower of sparks.

Heat ignited across my hull, flames licking at my wings as I fought to stabilize my descent. The jungle world rushed up to meet me, the terrain a blur of violet trees and glowing rivers. Strange, alien landscape. Unknown threats.

I had seconds.

Reaching for the emergency release, I punched out, my body ripped from the Prowler as the escape systems launched me away from the wreckage. The force slammed against my chest, crushing the air from my lungs as I was ejected into open sky.

For a moment, I was weightless, suspended between death and survival as I hurtled toward the surface. The wind tore at my armor, whipping against my fur. The planet’s scent hit me—rich soil, unfamiliar flora, the tang of minerals I couldn’t name.

The impact was brutal.

I hit the ground hard, rolling through tangled underbrush before my body finally skidded to a stop. My claws dug deep furrows in the earth as I tried to halt my momentum. Pain lanced through my shoulder, my ribs, my thigh—nothing broken, but battered to hell.

Everything ached.

My vision swam, my muscles burned as I forced myself upright. The scent of smoke and scorched metal filled my nostrils. In the distance, my ship—my Prowler—was nothing but flaming wreckage, a funeral pyre for advanced technology.

Gone.

I exhaled sharply, running a quick body check. My claws slid carefully over my limbs, testing for major injuries. My tail lashedbehind me, still responsive despite the pain. I wiped blood from my muzzle—a minor cut compared to what could have been.

Bruised, battered, but alive.

That would have to be enough.

My ears flicked as the jungle around me stirred. This planet was alive with sound—creatures chittering in the canopy above, the rustle of vegetation in the breeze, the distant call of something large and likely dangerous.

Strange, humid air. The low pulse of unseen creatures watching from the shadows. The light here was different—a lavender tinge to the atmosphere that made my fur look purple where it should have been gold.

No immediate threats. That was something.

I scanned the horizon, marking the location of my crash. The sun—larger and paler than I was used to—was descending. Night would bring its own dangers. I would need rest before I could plan my next move.

Using my claws, I climbed the nearest tree—easily twenty spans high, thick and sturdy. My Rodinian heritage served me well; my ancestors had hunted from the high branches of ancient forests. My claws sank into the bark, finding purchase even in this alien wood.

It would hold my weight. My people had been built for the hunt, for the prowl, but even the strongest hunter needed rest.

I wedged myself in the crook of the massive tree’s branches, tail coiling loosely around the limb for stability. My back pressed against the trunk, giving me a clear view of the surroundings. From here, I could spot any approach, any danger.

Survival protocols engaged automatically. I steadied my breathing, letting my enhanced senses catalog this new environment. Threat assessment. Resource identification. Escape routes.

But exhaustion tugged at me, the adrenaline of battle and crash fading to leave bone-deep weariness. My eyelids grew heavy, my muscles relaxing incrementally as I let my body heal itself.

Sleep came swiftly.

And with it?—

The dream.

Water.

Sunlight had kissed the surface of a shimmering lagoon, golden rays rippling across sapphire blue. The air had been thick with the scent of sweet citrus, lush flowers in bloom. This wasn’t the violet jungle I had crashed in—this was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere perfect.

And her.

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