The cave was still except for the faint crackle of dying embers. The air was cold, carrying on the horizon the scent of damp earth and forest leaves. Only the two of them stirred in there—one was dozing off, the other watchfully awake.
Far into the night, two unknown people slept uncomfortably. One, surrendering to exhaustion, his body yearning for the luxury of slumber. The other… was awake. Watching. Admiring.
Leo slept sideways, his back toward the stranger. He tried to stay vigilant, but the weight of the day pressed down upon his body. His eyesight became hazy, his mind clouding in spite of his best endeavor.
And still, even as he drifted off to sleep, the feeling of eyes boring into his back remained.
The stranger didn't sleep.
Leo awoke to the dim light of dawn creeping into the cave. His muscles were tense, his head still muddled from the restless night. He sat up, rubbing his face before turning to check on the stranger.
Just as expected, the man was still sick. His skin was pale, his breathing slow, his limbs unmoving except for the occasional shiver. It was the same as yesterday.
Leo grabbed the damp azure brineleaf from the man's forehead, replacing it with a fresh one. The cooling effect was mild, but it was better than nothing.
"You're awake," the man murmured weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Leo nodded. "Yeah. How are you feeling?"
The man coughed a dry sound. "As if I'd been petrified."
Leo remained silent. He simply gave him the bowl of water and watched as he attempted to lift his arm. He managed a handful of water before collapsing onto the ground again, exhausted by the effort.
Leo got to his feet, taking his spear. "I'm going to go hunting. Try to get some rest."
The man softly hummed in understanding.
Leo's first stop was the river. He knelt on the riverbank, scooping water into his wooden bowl. In doing so, he saw something dripping from a nearby tree—golden sap.
Resin.
He smiled, stripping off a small piece of bark to scoop some into his pouch. It would come in handy for stiffening his spear later.
As he finished filling his canteen with water, something caught his eye.
Tracks.
Deep impressions in the ground, scattered around the riverbank. But they were not from rabbits or deer.
They were too big to be from the wolves before.
Leo froze. His heart started racing as he knelt closer to examine them.
Four clawed toes. Even weight distribution. Fresh.
His stomach churned. These weren't wolf tracks. This was something so much bigger.
The memory hit him all at once—glowing red eyes, shining fangs, claws ripping through the air. The Blood Claw Ursan.
His right eye ached at the memory, a phantom pain remembering the wound he had received when they had last fought.
Leo slowly stood up, scanning his surroundings. All was still. Too still.
He gripped his spear tighter and backed away, moving swiftly toward the cave.
Leo forced himself to breathe evenly as he moved through the woods, every molecule of him crying out to run. He knew better. Panic might spook the animal if it was within range.
His ankle snagged on some buried root.
Leo stumbled—losing his footing—and before he realized what was occurring, the ground under him gave way.
He fell.
Branches whipped by his arms and legs as he rolled down a slope. His body slammed into the ground with a jarring crash, rolling through dirt and rocks before coming to rest.
He groaned, opening his eyes to the heavens. His body ached, a burning pain coming from his left arm. He lifted it to see the extent of the damage, a jagged cut across his forearm where he had struck a rock.
Blood frothed up, but it wasn't too deep. He'd be fine.
Leo sat up, shaking away the dizziness. He needed to move. Now.
That's when he spotted it.
Not far from where he had descended, lying in an open clearing…
The Blood Claw Ursan.
It lay beneath the shade of a large tree, its enormous form dilating and condensing with heavy, slow respirations.
It was asleep.
Leo's own heart pounded so hard he could have sworn that it would awaken the beast.
He gulped, making himself move stealthily back one pace. Then another.
And another.
His broken arm was sore, but he suppressed the pain. There was only the issue of escaping.
At last, after it felt like forever, he stopped and sprinted away as quickly as his body would carry him back toward the cave.
When Leo staggered into the cave, his chest was heaving, his body trembling with adrenaline. He discarded his spear and leaned back against the wall of the cave, trying to calm his breathing.
The stranger slept—still motionless, still sick.
Leo panted and was insisting on sitting down when he did, his muscles aching with the effort of running. His aching arm pounded, but he could cope with that currently.
He just needed a second to think.
A second to breathe.
Then—
A soft sound. A quiet approach toward the entrance of the cave.
Leo's head snapped in that direction, his hands instinctively reaching for his spear.
A small creature waited in the entrance of the cave, bathed in the faint light of the dying fire.
A wolf cub.
Its gray fur shone in the light, its large eyes looking up at Leo with curiosity.
Leo did not move.
Neither did the cub.
For a moment, the two just stared at one another.
Then—