The forest erupted in blinding light.
As the dust and crackling energy slowly faded, Mandle lay completely motionless on the shattered ground. For a heartbeat, she thought she saw his chest rise — hope flickered in her eyes — and she rushed to his side, stumbling through the settling haze.
But as the dust cleared fully, he still lay there.
Unmoving. Silent. Lifeless.
Her breath broke.
"No… no, please…" Her voice cracked as she fell to her knees beside him. "Not you… not like this…"
Tears streamed down her face, falling onto his shirt. Her hands trembled as she touched his cheek, his hair, his chest — desperate for any sign of life. He was the only one who had ever cared for her, the only one who had ever looked for her when she was in danger.
And now he was gone.
Her grief twisted into something sharp. She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him.
"Wake up!" she cried. "Wake up, Mandle!"
He didn't move.
Something inside her snapped.
With a choked scream, she slapped him — hard. Hard enough that her five fingers marked his cheek clearly. Hard enough that the sound cracked through the forest like a whip.
And that was when he jerked.
His eyes snapped open.
No panic. No flinch. His voice came out flat, cold, almost dismissive:
"I'm awake. You can stop now."
She froze.
Her tears halted mid‑fall, her breath catching in her throat. The relief on her face shattered into something sharp.
"You…" Her voice trembled. "You were awake?"
Inside, warmth surged through Mandle — guilt, affection, something he refused to name. But none of it reached his voice.
He kept his tone icy.
"I heard enough."
Her eyes widened, hurt flickering across her face.
"You let me cry," she whispered. "You let me think you were dead."
His chest tightened painfully, but he forced his expression to stay blank.
"It wasn't my concern at the moment."
The words tasted wrong in his mouth. He didn't mean them. Not even close.
But he refused to let the warmth inside him show.
She stood abruptly, wiping her face with the back of her hand.
"I risked everything for you," she said quietly. "And you… you were listening?"
He swallowed — warmth rising again, almost breaking through — but he crushed it down.
"You made your choice. I made mine."
Her breath hitched.
She stepped back.
"No."
Her voice was soft. Final.
Without another word, she turned and walked into the forest — fast, then faster — until the trees swallowed her completely.
Mandle's heart lurched.
He wanted to call out. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to tell her he didn't mean any of it.
But his voice stayed cold. His body stayed still. Only his eyes followed her until she vanished.
The moment she disappeared, the wolf's ears snapped upright.
Its fur bristled. Its eyes widened. Its tail tucked low.
And in a hurried, worried tone, the wolf muttered:
"Oh no… we're all in danger. We're already surrounded."
Mandle froze.
Hoj stiffened.
The forest held its breath.
Something — or many somethings — were already in the trees around them.
Watching. Waiting. Closing in.