Dev stayed back. His face wrinkled up in angst. What could he do besides being angry too? Dev loved animals. He’d spent much of his time in the forest. He cared for the foxes as if they were his charges. He could only imagine the pain Fifer must be going through. He knew the birds were more than just a means of transportation for her.

Fifer moved to the doorway, scowling at the dragon who’d killed her flock. She was glad that Dev had come after her, because she might have kept going straight to the dragon to attack him. But that wasn’t safe, especially now that the dragon was riled up. And while she’d known never to trust one of the Revinir’s dragons, she and Dev and Thisbe had grown lax about them being here since they could roam freely within the perimeter of the property.

“You killed my birds!” she screamed at the dragon.

The red creature was not impressed by her shouts and didn’t seem to notice how upset Fifer was. Fifer gripped her hair and tugged at it in frustration. She whirled around to look at Dev on the bottom step. “I can’t believe I’ve lost them all,” she said, softer now. “They died because of me.” Her face fell. She wasn’t able to unsee the fiery disaster, and it went through her mind over and over. Her shoulders slumped. She pushed her hair back, and a tear slipped down.

Dev had noticed that Fifer wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of person. She didn’t seem to like giving hugs unless she really knew and liked a person. But he was at a loss for what else to do. And now her bottom lip was quivering. “I’m sorry, Fifer,” he said. “Do you… do you want a hug? Or… anything?”

Fifer’s lip kept quivering. She nodded and dropped her hand from her face.

Dev stepped down off the stair, went to her, and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her face into his shoulder and sobbed.

They stood there for a long moment, intertwined, until Fifer’s sobs stopped. She pulled away, and Dev hastily let go and shoved his hands into his skirt pockets. “You okay?” he asked.

“Thanks,” said Fifer, sniffing and looking up at him. “Yes. Thank you.”

He pulled a wadded-up handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Then she held on to it and stared at it, not sure what to do. “I’ll… go wash this now.”

“It’s okay,” said Dev weakly, even though he really didn’t want it back in its present condition. “You can keep it. There are more upstairs.”