Freddie's steps slowed as he moved down the hallway, his bag snug against his shoulder. A few students glanced his way, their voices slipping just above the noise of the crowd.
"Did you see the yellow-furred guy?"
"Kinda cute."
"Bet he's lost."
He kept his gaze forward. Heat touched his cheeks, faint but present. He adjusted the strap of his bag and let the chatter pass. Words were easy to throw. They always had been.
A presence cut into his path—tall, confident, unbothered by the current of students flowing around him.
"Hey! You look a little turned around."
Freddie slowed, then nodded.
The stranger stopped a few feet away, hands lifted in a casual, non-threatening gesture. A grin followed—wide, easy, unmistakably comfortable in its place.
"Third-year classes?" He motioned down the hall. "You're close. I've got a habit of rescuing people before they wander into the wrong wing."
Freddie glanced up.
A dragon stood before him—tall, lean, black-and-blue scales catching the overhead light. His tail flicked lazily behind him, wings folded close enough to avoid brushing the walls, though they still marked his presence unmistakably.
"Kasey. Kasey Draven." A clawed hand extended, patient.
Freddie hesitated only a second before taking it. "Freddie… Bearlyn."
"Good to meet you." The grip was brief, careful. "And before you ask—no, I don't breathe fire indoors. Strict personal rule."
A corner of Freddie's mouth lifted before he could stop it.
They fell into step together. Kasey talked easily, pointing out shortcuts, complaining about impossible staircases, joking about which buildings everyone avoided their first week. Freddie listened, attention caught in the rhythm—the flick of a tail, the soft scrape of claws against tile, the way Kasey moved like the space already belonged to him.
Whispers still floated nearby, but they dulled with every step.
Kasey leaned closer as they passed a cluster of students. "Quick tip—ignore the background noise. First week's a mess. People watch because they're bored."
"Thanks," Freddie said quietly.
"Anytime." A glance sideways, thoughtful. "Yellow fur draws attention. Doesn't mean it deserves it."
Freddie absorbed that in silence.
They reached a wide intersection washed in sunlight. Dust motes drifted lazily through the air. Kasey gestured ahead.
"One more hall. You're officially not lost."
Freddie exhaled, shoulders easing. With someone beside him, the campus felt less like a maze and more like a place that could be learned.
"So," Kasey said, grin returning, "first-day nerves? Or are you secretly calm and plotting something dramatic?"
"Maybe a little of both."
Kasey laughed. "Fair."
They parted near the classroom doors. Kasey lingered just long enough to add, "You'll do fine," before disappearing back into the crowd.
Freddie slipped into a seat near the middle of the lecture hall. The room filled steadily—chairs scraping, papers shuffling, conversations lowering as the professor arrived.
He set his bag down and leaned back, posture relaxed but alert.
Across the room, a murmur surfaced.
"Interesting…"
Freddie didn't look up immediately. He traced faint scratches in the desk, waiting for the room to settle. When he finally glanced back, sharp amber eyes met his—brief, assessing—before flicking away.
A coyote. Tall. Lean. Watching without trying to hide it.
The lecture began. Time moved. Notes came easily. The earlier tension thinned into something manageable.
When class ended, the coyote approached, notebook tucked under one arm.
"Transfer student, right?" His voice was low, curious. "Never seen yellow fur like that on a bear."
"Genes," Freddie replied.
A smirk. "Figures. I'm Angelo."
"Freddie."
Angelo studied him for a moment, then nodded. "People talk. Most of them don't matter." A pause. "You might."
Freddie met his gaze, calm, unreadable.
"Maybe," he said.
Angelo's grin sharpened, satisfied. "We'll see." He stepped back, already turning away. "Catch you around."
The echo of his boots lingered longer than expected.
"Freddie!"
Kasey leaned against the far wall, wings folded neatly, tail swaying. His grin widened as Freddie approached.
"Survived?"
"No explosions."
"Always a relief."
They walked together, the hallway busy but no longer overwhelming. Kasey naturally adjusted his pace, guiding them through the flow without comment.
"Anyone give you trouble?"
"No." A pause. "Someone talked to me."
Kasey raised a brow. "Oh?"
"Coyote."
A quiet chuckle. "Yeah. I know the type."
"Bad?"
"Selective," Kasey said. "Could go either way."
Freddie nodded, storing that away.
They slowed near a branching corridor. Kasey checked the sign overhead, then tapped the map beside it.
"This is you. From here, you're set."
"Thanks. For earlier."
Kasey waved it off. "You looked like you knew where you wanted to be—even if you weren't sure yet."
Freddie considered that. "Still figuring it out."
"Aren't we all?" Kasey grinned, already backing away. "Don't vanish completely, Bearlyn."
"I'll try."
The next hour passed quietly. Freddie found a bench near the courtyard and reviewed his schedule. No whispers followed him here. No glances lingered.
When his next class approached, he moved deeper into the academic wing, choosing a seat neither hidden nor exposed. The lecture unfolded smoothly. Something beneath the calm shifted—not unease, but awareness.
Afterward, he wandered without purpose, following the sound of water.
The courtyard opened softly—ivy along stone walls, a low fountain murmuring at its center. Freddie sat at its edge and watched the ripples form and fade, endlessly patient.
Footsteps crossed the far side of the space. A pause. Then nothing.
For once, the quiet didn't feel heavy.
He stood and adjusted his bag, the day settling into something solid. College wasn't loud in the way he'd expected. Beneath the noise, there were moments like this—spaces that didn't demand anything from him.
Whatever this place would become, it was already moving.
Freddie stepped forward, not by accident—but by choice.