**The Starfall Festival**
"You've never been to a festival?" Jukrit's tail stood straight up in shock as they made camp for the evening.
Noraxia, in her anthropomorphic form, shrugged while arranging stones for their fire. "Dragons weren't exactly welcome at furfolk celebrations. And beast festivals..." She gestured at herself. "Wrong number of legs for those."
"But the Starfall Festival is different. It's about the meteor shower that happens every three years. Everyone celebrates—furfolk, beasts, even the fish-people from the coastal regions come inland for it."
"Sounds crowded," Noraxia said, but Jukrit caught the wistful note in her voice.
"It's tomorrow night, and we're only two hours from Riverside Market. They have one of the best celebrations." He paused, studying her. "We should go."
"I don't think—"
"As my medical assistant," Jukrit said firmly. "Festivals always need healers on hand. Too much honeywine and dancing leads to twisted ankles and worse."
Noraxia's golden eyes narrowed. "Your medical assistant?"
"Well, you do assist me. Remember last week? You held that bear still while I reset his shoulder."
"By sitting on him."
"Exactly. Assistance." Jukrit grinned. "Besides, you can't go through life without experiencing at least one Starfall Festival. It would be medical malpractice for me to allow it."
The next evening found them at the edge of Riverside Market, where lanterns were already being lit in preparation. The town sprawled along both banks of the Silver Rush River, connected by ancient stone bridges. Music drifted on the air—flutes and drums and stringed instruments creating competing melodies that somehow harmonized.
Noraxia had shifted to her four-legged form for travel but changed back as they approached. "I don't own festival clothes," she said, looking at the brightly dressed crowds.
"You don't need them." But Jukrit was already digging in his pack. "Here." He produced a length of silver cloth shot through with tiny stars. "I've been carrying this for emergencies."
"How is festival cloth an emergency supply?"
"You'd be surprised how often beautiful fabric can solve problems." He draped it around her shoulders like a cloak. The silver complemented her light brown fur perfectly, and the stars seemed to catch every bit of light.
She touched the fabric wonderingly. "It's beautiful."
"It suits you." The words came out softer than he'd intended, and Jukrit quickly busied himself with adjusting his own simple healer's sash. "Come on, let's find the medical tent before—"
"Healer Jukrit!" A family of otters bounded up. "We heard you might come! My kit sprained her tail practicing her diving routine for tonight. Could you...?"
And so it began. Word spread quickly that the traveling healer had arrived, and soon Jukrit was surrounded by minor injuries and anxious performers. Noraxia watched with amusement as he handled each case with patience, even the clearly exaggerated ones.
"Your dragon is very beautiful," a young raccoon said to Jukrit while he wrapped her "possibly twisted" ankle that seemed fine. "Is she your mate?"
Jukrit's fur fluffed involuntarily. "She's my traveling companion."
"Oh." The raccoon seemed disappointed. "But she looks at you like—"
"All done!" Jukrit interrupted. "Next?"
As the sun set and the stars began to emerge, the festival shifted into full celebration. The medical tent quieted—everyone was too busy dancing and feasting to get injured just yet.
"Come on," Jukrit said, tugging at Noraxia's paw. "Let me show you the festival properly."
They wandered through the market stalls, Jukrit explaining traditions while Noraxia took in everything with quiet wonder. He bought her crystalized honeycomb from a bee vendor ("Dragons have sweet teeth?" "This one does"), showed her the puppet shows retelling the legend of the first Starfall, and laughed when she won a strength test without even trying.
"The dancing field is this way," he said as drums began a new rhythm. "We should—"
"I don't dance," Noraxia said quickly.
"Everyone dances at Starfall. It's tradition."
"I'm too big. I'll step on someone."
"Then we'll find space." He led her to the edge of the field where the crowd was thinner. "The Starfall Dance is simple. It's about moving together, watching the sky, celebrating being alive under the stars."
She looked deeply uncertain. "Jukrit..."
"Trust me?"
It was the same tone he'd used that first day in the cave, when he'd asked to try healing her. She'd trusted him then with her life. Trusting him with potential embarrassment seemed smaller somehow.
"Always," she said, then blinked as if surprised by her own response.
He showed her the basic steps—a weaving pattern that mimicked the paths of falling stars. She was hesitant at first, hyperaware of her size, but gradually relaxed as she realized the other dancers were giving them space without fear, just courtesy.
"See?" Jukrit said as they moved together. "You're doing perfectly."
"You're a good teacher." She smiled, and he realized how rarely he'd seen her truly smile—not ruefully or sarcastically, but with genuine joy. "This is... nice."
The drums picked up pace. Around them, dancers spun and leaped, and without thinking, Noraxia lifted Jukrit, spinning him in a circle that made him laugh with surprise. When she set him down, they were closer than before, her paws still on his shoulders.
"Sorry," she started to say, but he shook his head.
"Don't apologize for joy. Not ever."
Something shifted in her expression. The festival lights caught in her golden eyes, and for a moment, the noise and crowds faded away.
Then the sky exploded with light.
The Starfall had begun—meteors streaking across the darkness in brilliant streams. The crowd gasped and cheered, but Jukrit found himself watching Noraxia watch the sky. Her face was tilted up, silver cloak shimmering, expression soft with wonder.
"Make a wish," he said. "Starfall tradition."
"What should I wish for?"
"Whatever your heart wants most."
She looked down at him, and something in that look made his heart skip. "I think," she said quietly, "I already have it."
Before he could respond, someone screamed. The moment shattered as Jukrit's healer instincts kicked in. A ferret had climbed too high on a viewing platform and fallen.
They worked together seamlessly—Noraxia catching the ferret before he hit the ground, Jukrit checking for injuries. It was, miraculously, just a scare and some bruises.
But as they returned to the dancing field, the spell was broken. They watched the rest of the meteors in companionable silence, surrounded by but separate from the celebrating crowds.
Later, as the festival wound down and they prepared to leave, the raccoon from earlier appeared with her parents.
"Thank you for earlier," her mother said. "And for bringing such joy to the festival. It's been a long time since I've seen anyone dance with such... connection."
After the family left, Noraxia and Jukrit walked in silence toward the town's edge. The silver cloak still draped her shoulders, starlight caught in its folds.
"Thank you," she said finally. "For making me come. For the dancing. For..." She gestured vaguely. "Everything."
"Thank you for trusting me. I know crowds aren't easy for you."
"They're easier with you there." She paused, then added quickly, "Having a healer nearby is reassuring."
"Right. Medical assurance."
"Exactly."
They walked a bit further before she asked, "Did you make a wish? During the Starfall?"
Jukrit glanced up at her. "I did."
"What did you wish for?"
"Can't tell you. Starfall wishes are secret."
"That's convenient," she said, but she was smiling.
As they found a place to camp, Noraxia carefully folded the silver cloak. "I'll keep this. For... medical emergencies."
"Of course. Very practical."
She shifted to her four-legged form for sleep, but curled closer to him than usual. "Jukrit?"
"Mm?"
"Next time there's a festival... we should go. For medical coverage."
"Absolutely. Can't have festivals without proper medical coverage."
In the darkness, he could hear her breathing slow toward sleep. Just before he drifted off himself, he heard her murmur, "The raccoon kit was right, you know."
But when he asked what she meant in the morning, she claimed not to remember.
The silver cloak, however, remained carefully folded at the top of her travel bags, and sometimes when she thought he wasn't looking, he caught her touching it gently, like a talisman of a perfect night under falling stars.
