The nguruvilu took a deep breath in and sighed. Then another and sighed again. There was no changing what had been done. And in the end, the two of them were leaving together. Maybe this place wasn’t home. Maybe Kital was. And even if this place was home, maybe home was something okay to leave. At least for awhile. The fox-snake nuzzled her friend back and slipped her head out of her coils to follow the matsuba’s gaze, taking in one last glimpse of the only place they’d ever known. How much world was out there, anyway? Could it really be much bigger than this?<br/><br/>She looked over at her friend, watching her as she watched the lake. Slowly, she tensed her body and sprung, wrapping her friend in her coils and giving a chittering laugh,<i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(65, 168, 95)">“Maybe it will be better. And maybe when we’re back, you’ll be strong enough to avoid my traps.” </span></i>She rubbed her cheeks against her friends side and gently bopped a paw against her fishy forehead before releasing her.<br/><br/>She slithered off quickly to the waterside, partly to avoid her friend’s wrath and to get one last glimpse into the water. She dipped a paw in it, watching the water ripple out. Then ducked her head into it, dreaming of diving in, and pulled it back out. After a few minutes she slithered back, feeling renewed, and waited at their new master’s feet.