"Fuck who said the forest was safer… kinder—?!"

  Eylin twisted violently as a claw carved through the space where his neck had been an instant earlier. The impact slammed into a tree trunk behind him, splintering bark and sending shards spinning through the air.

  The rodent towered over him.

  Matted fur hung in thick clumps along its hunched back. Its spine arched unnaturally, muscles shifting beneath hide that looked more like cured leather than flesh. Elongated canines protruded past its lower jaw, yellowed and serrated at the edges. But it was the eyes that made his stomach tighten.

  They weren't animal.

  They tracked.

  Measured.

  Calculated.

  He stumbled backward, boots slipping against churned soil. His heart hammered so hard it felt detached from his body.

  His dagger had snapped on the first strike.

  His spear hadn't even pierced its hide.

  Preparation meant nothing if your opponent was built like a wall.

  The creature lunged again, claws tearing through the air with enough force to whistle.

  Eylin ducked under the swipe and rolled, barely avoiding the follow-up bite that shattered a thick branch behind him.

  He came up scrambling.

  Think.

  Think!

  His fingers brushed against something rough and jagged in the dirt.

  A stone.

  Small. Cracked. Familiar.

  The glyph carved into its surface flickered faintly in the dim light.

  Please work.

  "BIIIIND!"

  He hurled it with everything he had left.

  The stone shattered before it even touched the creature.

  Green light burst outward in branching veins like lightning frozen mid-strike. The ground split with a violent crack, and from it erupted rocky, vine-like tendrils that snapped around the rodent's limbs and torso.

  The monster shrieked.

  Not a squeal.

  A tearing, metallic wail that rattled inside his skull and made his teeth ache.

  The bindings tightened.

  Stone ground against fur.

  Cracks spidered across the rocky tendrils.

  They wouldn't hold long.

  He didn't hesitate.

  Eylin sprinted forward.

  If it broke free again, he was dead.

  He vaulted onto its pinned body, boots slipping against dense, matted fur. The creature thrashed, claws gouging deep trenches into the soil inches from his legs.

  Hot, rancid breath blasted into his face.

  Its jaws snapped wildly.

  He lunged for its head.

  "Now—!"

  He drove his fingers into its left eye.

  Resistance met him.

  Thick.

  Dense.

  Then—

  Rupture.

  Warm fluid spilled over his knuckles as the creature convulsed violently. The rocky vines cracked under the strain.

  A claw slashed across his shoulder, tearing through cloth and skin in a burning arc. Blood sprayed.

  He screamed back — not in pain, but fury — and forced his thumb into the remaining eye socket.

  The world shrank.

  Heat.

  Blood.

  Sound.

  The rodent's screech climbed higher and higher until it became a piercing frequency that felt like needles driving into his brain.

  The bindings shattered.

  But it was already too late.

  The creature spasmed once more.

  Then collapsed.

  The forest swallowed the echo.

  Eylin remained kneeling over it, fingers still buried deep in ruined sockets, chest rising and falling in ragged bursts.

  Alive.

  He pulled his hands free slowly.

  His so-called weapons had failed to pierce its hide.

  But its eyes had not.

  He wiped blood across his trousers and stared at the elongated canines jutting from the broken jaw.

  Sharp.

  Dense.

  Functional.

  "Those… will do."

  He scanned the treeline.

  The forest felt tense.

  Not empty.

  Watching.

  He moved quickly.

  From his pocket, he retrieved the flat bone he had kept for experimentation — smooth, pale, and unmarked.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled, searching for that familiar tightening pressure that came when carving glyphs.

  The structured hum.

  The contained response.

  Nothing.

  Silence.

  Fine.

  "Let's try this…"

  He clenched his fist around the bone.

  Something shifted.

  The air thickened.

  The hairs along his arms stood upright.

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  Thin cracks of light traced across his knuckles like fractures spreading through glass.

  Flames did not ignite.

  They leaked.

  They seeped through the fissures in his skin.

  His hand blackened instantly, charred and smoking — yet he felt no heat. No pain. Only pressure.

  The bone trembled violently as fire carved into it, etching intertwined circles around a central symbol that refused to remain steady.

  It wavered.

  Distorted.

  Reality felt strained.

  Like something unseen was resisting.

  Like a membrane stretched too thin.

  For a split second, he felt as though he were pushing against something vast — something that did not approve.

  His breath hitched.

  Then the sensation snapped back into place.

  He placed the bone carefully into the rodent's mouth and retreated several steps.

  Silence.

  Nothing happened.

  He frowned.

  Then—

  Boom.

  A sharp, contained blast tore the creature's jaw clean off. Bone fragments scattered across the clearing.

  Eylin moved immediately.

  He retrieved the intact canines, heavy and slick, and stuffed them into his bag.

  A distant howl cut through the trees.

  Long.

  Echoing.

  Another answered.

  His head snapped up.

  Not alone.

  Of course not.

  He scanned quickly and spotted a cluster of cical plants near a fallen log. Recognition sparked through memory — rope-fiber properties. Strong. Flexible. Lightweight.

  "Luck's finally on my side."

  He harvested quickly, fingers moving faster than his mind. He stripped a section of hide from the rodent as well, hands shaking from fading adrenaline.

  The howls came again.

  Closer.

  Too close.

  He ran.

  Not toward safety.

  Just away from death.

  Branches whipped his face. Roots clawed at his boots. His lungs burned with each breath.

  He didn't notice when the forest went silent.

  Not predator silent.

  Not hunting silent.

  Listening silent.

  The insects stopped.

  The leaves stilled.

  Even the wind seemed to pause.

  He ran through it, unaware.

  Moments later, three figures slipped from the brush into the clearing he'd left behind.

  Tall.

  Lean.

  Mist clung to them unnaturally, drifting along their limbs like living vapor.

  They examined the carcass without speaking.

  One crouched beside the shattered jaw.

  Another traced a claw mark across the earth.

  The third lifted its head slightly, gaze following the path Eylin had taken.

  They said nothing.

  They didn't need to.

  After a long moment, they faded back into the forest.

  Far behind Eylin, balanced lightly on a high branch, a woman watched.

  Her posture was relaxed.

  Predatory.

  Golden eyes tracked the direction of his escape.

  "That wasn't glyphwork…"

  The words were quiet, but certain.

  She had felt it.

  When he clenched his fist.

  When the air had compressed unnaturally.

  Glyphs required structure.

  Anchors.

  Channels.

  That had been different.

  The air where he had stood still felt distorted.

  Like a page folded — then forced back into place.

  Interesting.

  Very interesting.

  A faint smile curved her lips.

  "Run, cub."

  Her voice barely disturbed the leaves.

  "Grow."

  Her gaze sharpened.

  "Show me what you really are."

  She stepped off the branch and landed without a sound.

  She did not pursue.

  Not yet.

  Predators did not chase prey that had not learned its own teeth.

  Deep within the oldest part of the forest, beneath roots that had never tasted sunlight, something shifted.

  Not awakened.

  Not fully.

  Just… adjusted.

  The disturbance had been faint.

  But it had not followed known pathways.

  No ritual.

  No summoning.

  No fracture from above.

  It had come from within.

  That was unusual.

  Ancient awareness tilted slightly toward the direction of the fleeing boy.

  Assessing.

  Waiting.

  The forest resumed its breathing.

  Wind returned.

  Insects sang again.

  Everything appeared normal.

  But the air carried memory now.

  A subtle tension.

  Like fabric stretched once and smoothed flat again.

  And somewhere deep within the forest—

  Something old stirred in response.