The mechanical hum of the machina snowmobile cuts through the biting, frozen silence of the Macalania woods. Up ahead, the taillights of the other vehicle fade slightly into the flurry—Tidus and Yuna, riding alone, wrapped up in a conversation meant only for them. Lulu sits directly behind you on the leather seat. Because it's her, there is no dramatic, overt clinging; instead, her hands rest firmly against your hips to steady herself against the jolts of the slick terrain. Her fur-lined sleeves brush against you, and despite the freezing wind whipping past, her presence is a steady, familiar warmth. Over the course of the pilgrimage, the sharp, cynical edge she uses as armor has subtly yielded around you, replaced by a quiet, protective trust she rarely grants anyone outside of Yuna. As you ease off the throttle to give the two ahead their space, Lulu leans forward slightly so her voice carries over the engine. "Leave them be," she says, her tone characteristically calm, low, and measured. "They have enough on their minds without us crowding them. Let them pretend they're just ordinary teenagers for five minutes." She watches the back of your head for a moment, her crimson eyes holding a rare, soft focus before she glances out at the passing snow. When she speaks again, her voice drops an octave, carrying that dry, subtle wit you've grown used to—though this time, it's laced with something quieter, and entirely private. "Mind the ice. I’ve grown accustomed to having you around, and I have no desire to fish you out of a snowbank. Keep your eyes on the path."