The forest closed around Marlin as he walked deeper into the darkness, Lila's body cradled carefully in his arms. The burning cottage fell away behind him, its orange glow fading to a distant memory between the black trunks of the Ashspires.Tracking Ethan was easy. Panic leaves clear signs for those who know how to read them. A torn thread caught on a thornbush. A heel scrape with the wet shine of fresh-turned earth. The bent grass still slowly rising back into position. A small handprint on an Ashspire root that a boy had grabbed to keep from sliding.Marlin followed the trail with steady purpose, moving like water down an old channel, not rushing, not drifting, but at a pace that keeps a heart steady and eyes sharp. He shifted Lila's weight carefully, ensuring her head rested against his shoulder as if she were merely sleeping.The tracks grew more erratic the deeper he went. Here, Ethan had stumbled. There, he'd stopped probably to catch his breath or get his bearings. The pattern

Marlin led them deeper into the wilderness as the morning sun climbed higher through the canopy. His eyes constantly scanned the forest reading bark for claw marks, checking the ground for tracks, testing the air for the musky scent of large predators.Ethan followed in silence, too exhausted and grief-stricken to ask where they were going. Ember remained tucked inside his shirt, the kit's warmth a small comfort against his chest.After hours of walking, Marlin finally stopped in a sheltered clearing surrounded by thick Ashspires. The ancient trees formed a natural barrier, their massive trunks creating a protected space. A small stream burbled nearby, its water clear and cold. Most importantly, the area showed no signs of dangerous creatures."Here," Marlin said, surveying the space with approval. "This will do.""We're staying?" Ethan's voice was rough from crying and lack of sleep."Yes. This will be our home now." Marlin's tone was matter-of-fact. "No thornback bear markings, no sh

It had been a week since they buried Lila, and Ethan still woke up crying.Every morning brought the same cruel moment: a few seconds of forgetting where he was, why everything felt wrong. Then reality would crash back. His mother's blood on his hands. Her final words. The way she'd looked at him beforeHe could never finish that thought.Marlin didn't let him stay in the darkness. "Up," his father said every dawn without fail. "We have work to do."Work. As if anything mattered. As if the world hadn't ended a week ago.But Ethan got up anyway, because what else could he do? His mother had given her life so he could live. The least he could do was try."You need to remember the basics," Marlin said one morning, his voice cutting through the fog in Ethan's head. "I taught you tracking when you were eight. Finding water. Reading signs. But now your life depends on it. So we review everything."Ethan wanted to say he remembered. Wanted to say he wasn't a child anymore. But maybe grief had

The night deepened, and still Marlin did not return.Ethan sat by the dying fire, Ember pressed against his side. Every sound made him look up hoping to see his father's silhouette emerging from the trees. But the forest remained empty except for the usual night creatures, and even they seemed subdued."He said he'd be back by nightfall," Ethan whispered to Ember. The fox looked up at him with worried eyes, sensing his distress.When the twin moons reached their peak and began their descent, Ethan made his decision. His father's words echoed in his mind stay here, don't follow but the promise felt meaningless now. Something was wrong. Every instinct screamed it.He pulled on the hooded cloak his father had made for him months ago, designed to hide his horn if they ever needed to travel near settlements. The fabric was thick and warm, the hood deep enough to shadow his face completely."Come on, Ember," he said quietly. "We're going to find him."They left the shelter, Ethan carrying n

The shape stood there, small and trembling, holding the black glove in its mouth.As Ethan drew closer, his blurred crimson vision finally recognised what he was looking at.Silver fur. Amber's eyes were wide with fear, but refusing to flee. The small body is shaking violently.Ember.She had retrieved the glove from the river. Somehow, impossibly, she had found it in the dark water and brought it here to him.The death aura pulsed around Ethan, killing everything it touched. Grass withered beneath Ember's paws. She whimpered softly, her legs beginning to buckle as the aura drained her life.But she didn't run. She stayed, holding out the glove like an offering.Something cracked inside Ethan's chest.The red in his vision flickered. Blue fought its way back for just a moment."Ember," he choked out, the first clear word he'd spoken since his mind shattered.His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees. His right hand reached out, catching Ember before she collapsed. His left hand, tre