He could have simply left her there, but he had already stepped into the muddy water and dirtied his clothes. He had no desire to let his efforts go to waste.
As the drizzle fell over him, he walked toward the enormous old tree.
Meanwhile, the little girl puckered her tiny lips and chattered about something. Finding it rather amusing that she was putting on such airs despite being soaked to the skin, he lightly teased her, and the deathly pale complexion of her face immediately gained a hint of color.
He studied her carefully beneath the hood pulled low over her head.
She looked to be about Aila's age. She was roughly the same height, though her frame seemed much smaller. Through the rain-soaked fabric, he could feel the delicate bones beneath, as fragile as a bird's.
Despite boasting that she was the daughter of someone important, it was not difficult to guess that she was not someone receiving proper care.
'...It's none of my concern.'
Perplexed by the irritation rising within himself, he bent down to set her on the ground.
At that moment, something like the faint whistle of a bird brushed past his ear.
He stopped moving and lowered his gaze to the hands she held clasped tightly against her chest.
"What are you holding?"
The little girl looked up at him hesitantly before slowly opening her hand.
Nestled inside was something that looked like a mud-caked bundle of grayish-brown feathers.
He frowned.
"A bird?"
As he muttered skeptically, the girl's cheeks grew even redder.
"It only looks like that because it fell into the mud. Originally it..."
She began protesting with a flushed face, only to trail off and lower her head gloomily.
He could not understand why a bird on the verge of death saddened her so much, or why she had been clutching it protectively despite standing in the rain.
And yet, that shabby little bird she simply could not abandon reminded him of something he himself had lost long ago.
Immersed in that strange wave of nostalgia, he adjusted her against one arm and drew her tiny hand beneath his own hood.
The skin that brushed against the back of his neck was so cold that he wondered whether blood was even flowing through it.
"Your fingers are like ice. How long have you been standing out there?"
He looked down at her with obvious disapproval, only to find himself staring directly into a pair of enormous eyes fixed intently on his own.
What could she possibly be looking at?
Just as he was about to ask, the little girl murmured in a hushed voice, as though she had discovered an extraordinary treasure.
"Hey... there's a silver crown inside your eyes."
He stared down at her, utterly speechless.
It was she who possessed truly peculiar eyes.
Her irises were so dark that the boundary between iris and pupil seemed to disappear, yet they did not appear black. Rather, they shone with an eerie, crystalline clarity.
Then, all at once, he remembered where he had seen that pure light before.
It was the light that had poured down upon him when he raced across endless grasslands long, long ago.
The moment he realized it, it was as though a veil covering his vision had been stripped away, leaving everything startlingly clear.
The change came so suddenly that he could not even comprehend what had happened to him.
As he stared unblinking into the sudden flood of vivid light, a cascade of colors spread outward from her eyes, filling everything around them.
Only then did he notice that the girl's hair gleamed with a brilliant golden hue, like fields at the height of autumn.
Without thinking, he reached out toward it.
Just then, she suddenly turned her head away.
He had to clench his fist to stop himself from grabbing that tiny face and turning it back toward him.
The girl murmured awkwardly,
"I... I have to go now."
She sounded reluctant.
If you don't want to go, then don't.
The words almost escaped him before he shut his mouth.
He had only just met her.
There was no reason to stop someone who wished to leave.
Slowly, he bent down and set her on the ground.
Standing on her own feet once more, the girl held out her hand toward him.
"Will you take it with you?"
His gaze settled on the tiny bird resting in her palm before he carefully reached out.