Nights were cold, once upon a time. The nascent years of adolescence brought changes you had no chance of understanding. Your very mind began to attack itself, wrapping you in so many layers of fear and anxiety that your only comfort became the stifled sobs in your bed, your only friends the tear-soaked pillows. Who could understand someone like you?

And then you were given that Vulpix. There you stood, fourteen troubled years old, and staring into those large, dark eyes... and like a warm blanket slipping around your shoulders after a long, storm-clamoured walk, you realised that... maybe he might.

That was five years ago. Years seemingly too short for the changes, for the social outings, for the smiles, for the budding relationship. For the conversations you had, no longer finding your tongue tied down with fear. For the jobs you felt so brave enough to finally work, you worked two of them, saving up every penny for a fire stone. All of it because, on that afternoon in your parent's living room, someone finally looked at you with the understanding that you'd needed your whole life.

Nights aren't so cold any more.

Not with him.