The night was deep, and the damp ground reflected the faint glow of a single lamp.
Noah sat silently in a narrow wooden cage, his gaze fixed on the iron door that remained tightly shut. It felt as though a massive weight pressed against his chest. He stayed still, like an abandoned statue. Yet in his wooden eyes, something was burning quietly.
He could not wait any longer. Anya was still out there, likely running through the streets in a panic, calling his name. She was so fragile, so easily frightened. He could not let her face the world alone.
Noah slowly closed his eyes, as if making a difficult decision.
The next morning, the man pushed open the door. He had a pipe in his mouth, and the stench of alcohol from the night before still clung to him. The moment he entered, he spotted Noah sitting upright in the cage with an obedient expression.
"What's this?" the man narrowed his eyes. "Changed your mind?"
Noah lowered his head. His voice was calm and gentle. "I've thought it over. You were right. A puppet's fate is to be controlled. I shouldn't have dreamed of freedom."
The man paused, then burst into laughter. "Should've known sooner. If you'd behaved from the start, you wouldn't have had to suffer."
"It was my fault," Noah said softly, as humble as a bird with broken wings.
"Good." The man patted him on the head with satisfaction. "You'd better put on a proper show tonight. If you do well, I might give you a little reward."
A flicker of light passed through Noah's eyes. He quickly put on a delighted expression. "Really? I can't eat or drink, but I do like the smell of meat and wine."
He sniffed the air with exaggeration and said with a dreamy look, "Was that honey mead you drank last night? It smelled so sweet."
The man chuckled. "You've got a nose for it, don't you?" He waved a hand dismissively. "Just behave and earn me some good coin. You can sniff all you like."
Noah nodded enthusiastically.
That evening, the performance was unusually brilliant. On stage, Noah moved with such grace and precision that he seemed truly alive. He played the role of a soldier who had lost his beloved in the chaos of war, and in the twilight, he danced a sorrowful tribute to her spirit.
The crowd was moved to tears. Copper and silver coins rained onto the stage.
The man sat in the back, his eyes narrowed with pleasure, grinning from ear to ear.
"Excellent. Absolutely brilliant." He returned to his tent with a full money pouch and ordered wine and roast meat for the celebration.
Noah sat quietly in a corner, sniffing deeply at the aroma of the feast. He smiled politely. "Smells wonderful. You really are generous. That little girl I used to follow. She never had anything like this."
"Isn't that right?" The man laughed heartily. "That wretched girl had nothing. You'd have rotted with her eventually."
Noah leaned in slightly. "You're my lucky star. Truly the wisest man in the world."
The man's face lit up. Even his beard seemed to perk up with joy. He drank one cup after another until he slumped into the barrels, snoring loudly and muttering, "Yes... born to be a noble..."
Noah waited patiently. When the man collapsed completely, he stood up without a sound.
He stepped around the table, found the keys, and opened the cage.
Without hesitation, he ran into the night.
The wind was like a knife, slicing into the cracks of his wooden chest, but he had never felt so free.
Anya sat outside the little house, hugging her knees, her face buried in her arms. Her body trembled in the wind.
She had lost track of how many days had passed.
She had searched every corner of the town, wandered through the forest, asked at the market, and spoken to countless strangers. But there had been no trace of him.
"Noah... where did you go..." Her voice was hoarse, her eyes had long since dried out from crying. Yet now, more tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Just as numbness began to take over, a familiar voice whispered behind her.
"Anya."
She looked up sharply.
There, standing in the doorway, was a slim, upright figure. His clothes were torn, his legs bore the marks of rope, and his face was smudged with dirt. Yet those wooden eyes still held nothing but warmth.
"Noah!" She sprang to her feet as if struck by lightning and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around him.
Her body trembled uncontrollably. Tears once again spilled from her eyes.
"Where did you go? Do you have any idea how scared I was... I thought... I thought I would never see you again..."
Noah gently returned the embrace. His wooden hands were stiff and awkward, but the way he held her was unshakably firm.
"You don't have to worry now," he whispered. "It's over. We'll never be apart again."
They stood in the wind, holding each other. The grass rustled. The night air felt like a quiet guardian spirit, watching over their reunion.
"From now on, don't go off by yourself again," Anya said in a hoarse voice.
Noah nodded. "Alright. From now on, we'll stay together. Always."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
He rested his forehead gently against hers and reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.
Her eyes were red and swollen, making her look pitiful and endearing at once. Something in Noah's chest pulled tight. A strange pain flickered there.
Then Anya cupped his face and kissed him softly.
Noah froze for a moment. Something deep within his chest began to throb wildly.
He could not help but hold her tighter, whispering in his heart that he would make her happy. No matter what.
The next morning, before dawn had broken, Noah slung Anya's bundle over his shoulder. Hand in hand, the two of them left the town behind.
After a quiet discussion, they had decided to move on to another city. They could not risk being found again.