The transformation began with a faint crackle, like dry bark splitting. The wood darkened in fast waves, mold blooming across surfaces as if painted by invisible hands. Nails loosened, beams sagged, and the smell of rot rose thick and sudden, making Redd wrinkle his nose. Dust poured down in soft curtains, the hut collapsing into its own history in the space of breaths, turning cozy structure into brittle ruin and then into nothing.
Around them, the forest became more lush and thick; the voices of animals finally echoed, and life itself, which seemed to have been frozen, returned.
Green surged outward like it had been held back by force. Leaves thickened overhead, branches knitting together into a canopy that swallowed light in a natural way rather than an oppressive one.
