Earthbound Cryptoterrestrials

Then the ink surged, it crossed without her permission, and she was there, inside Korvax's vision. He was in tiger form, padding along the lakeshore. The scents of wet earth, burning wood, and simmering cassava stew clung to his senses. Mara felt it all as if she too crouched low in the reeds, muscles coiled, rich stripes catching moonlight.

She whispered into his mind. Do you ever wish to stop hiding?

Korvax froze mid-step.

Wishing is not for Razan.

But you do, she pressed. I can feel it.

For a heartbeat, his guard cracked. The ache in him was raw, centuries of Razan  volcanic sentinel duty, never belonging to earth whose crusts he guarded, always disguising. His longing wasn't for glory or freedom, it was for recognition. For someone to look at him without flinching. And now she had.

The crossing fractured again, returning her to her body. Like meals as memory. On the table, her abandoned plate had cooled. She picked up one slice of ice-fruit and bit into it. Its nectar was crisp, sweet, cold, yet beneath it, she tasted smoke and ash from his volcanic bread. A tear slipped down her cheek. Not sadness. Something more dangerous. Connection.

Back in Tanganyika, Korvax sat alone, like a final crossing of the night, a plate of half-finished dumplings in front of him. Earth food. He closed his eyes, allowed the ink to pull at his veins, and spoke across the current, not as sentinel, but as something closer to human.

Mara. He whispered through the ink, across the world 

She stirred awake in the Artic dome, her heart thrumming.

Yes.

When the veil falls, your kind will see us. And I do not know if they will fear us… or embrace us. But I will not let you stand alone when it happens.

Her breath caught. She had no reply. Only the lingering taste of chili, cassava, and smoke binding them across a world too small to contain what was coming.