She placed her hand in his, feeling the familiar warmth that had returned to his touch. Mo Xing pulled her to her feet in a single fluid motion, his arms wrapping around her briefly—a gesture that seemed as much to reassure himself of her solidity as to offer her comfort. When he released her, his hand remained at the small of her back, a subtle point of connection as they turned to face their new guide.
"Please lead," Mo Xing said to the fox, his voice carrying the quiet authority of one accustomed to command, yet with newfound respect for the ancient guardian before them.
The fox bowed its head once more, nine tails fanning behind it like a crown of living flame.
As it began to move, reality around them seemed to liquefy, colors running together like wet paint in rain. A shimmering portal formed in the fox's wake, its edges pulsing with ancient symbols that rearranged themselves continuously. The white void engulfed them momentarily before new surroundings coalesced.
