The boy leaned back against the trunk, his body still aching but no longer trembling from the climb. He had rested for a while now, enough for the burning in his arms and legs to dull into a faint throb. From his perch, he could see the forest stretching endlessly in every direction, its canopy a sea of twisting branches. The mana clinging to the trees and moss below didn’t glow but instead dimmed to match the deep greens and browns of the forest, blending seamlessly into the fading light. It was there if he focused—subtle, like a quiet pulse in the corner of his vision. The sun, though hidden behind the dense canopy, painted the sky above in streaks of gold and crimson, the colors filtering through the gaps in the leaves. Shafts of light pierced the forest floor in scattered beams, illuminating patches of moss and bark with a soft, muted radiance. The air grew cooler, carrying with it the faint, earthy scent of damp wood and leaves. Somewhere in the distance, a low, melodic hum echoed faintly, like the forest itself was singing the day to a close. It was beautiful, but it didn’t feel safe. The fading light made the shadows stretch longer, deeper, and the once-faint rustling of leaves now seemed sharper, more deliberate. The boy’s eyes darted to the edges of his vision, where the mana dimmed and shifted like faint ripples in a still pond. He couldn’t tell if it was moving or if it was just his tired mind playing tricks on him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the sleepiness that clung to him like a heavy fog.

  The mana rippled again, this time closer. He blinked, focusing harder, but the disturbance was fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it had come. The forest below remained still, its dim hues blending into the deepening twilight. A soft rustle broke the silence, barely audible over the faint hum of the forest. The ripple returned, faint but deliberate, like a quiet warning. His breath caught as he scanned the branches around him, his muscles tensing. Something was there, moving just out of sight, its presence masked by the forest’s natural rhythm. Before he could react, it lunged from a branch to his left, claws outstretched, aiming for his side. The boy twisted instinctively, raising his arm to block the blow. The creature’s claws raked across his forearm, leaving shallow but stinging cuts as it rebounded off him and landed on a nearby branch. Pain flared, and he hissed through clenched teeth, his legs pressing firmly against the branch to keep himself steady.

  The creature crouched on the nearby branch, its long, bushy tail flicking sharply behind it as it let out a sharp, guttural hiss. Its dark fur bristled, blending into the bark and shadows, while its glowing eyes locked onto him with an intensity that made his chest tighten. The sound was primal, a warning that sent a shiver down his spine. Its claws scraped against the branch, the faint screech of bark peeling away adding to the tension. The boy’s breath came in shallow bursts, his injured arm throbbing as blood trickled down in thin lines. He pressed his back harder against the trunk, his legs gripping the branch beneath him like a vice. The creature’s mana rippled erratically, jagged waves pulsing outward, amplifying its presence. It wasn’t attacking again—not yet.

  The boy’s chest heaved as he steadied his breathing, his injured arm throbbing with every heartbeat. The creature’s mana rippled faintly, like a soft vibration in the air, its presence pressing against his senses. It crouched low on the branch, its bushy tail flicking sharply behind it, the motion quick and agitated. Its glowing eyes stayed locked on him, unblinking, as if waiting for him to make the first move. The boy’s mind was a haze of exhaustion and pain, but one thing was clear: it was trying to scare him. The way it bared its teeth, the way its claws scraped against the bark—it was a challenge, a display meant to make him back down. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and forced himself to sit up straighter, pressing his back firmly against the trunk. If it wanted to intimidate him, he’d have to show it he wasn’t an easy target. He bared his teeth, a low, guttural sound escaping his throat—not quite a growl, but enough to make his intent clear. His uninjured hand clenched into a fist, and he slammed it against the branch beneath him, the dull thud breaking the tense silence. The creature flinched, its tail flicking sharply as its ears flattened against its head. It hissed again, louder this time, but it didn’t move closer. They stared at each other, the tension between them like a taut string ready to snap. The boy’s heart pounded in his chest, but he didn’t look away. The beast knew it couldn’t stay here any longer. The boy was bigger, and its attack had failed. The creature shifted its weight, its claws flexing against the bark, but it didn’t lunge. Instead, it let out one last sharp hiss, its mana rippling faintly before it turned and darted back into the shadows, disappearing into the maze of branches above. The boy didn’t move, his body frozen in place as the adrenaline coursed through him. He waited, his eyes scanning the branches for any sign of movement, but the forest had gone still again. Only then did he let out a shaky breath, his body sagging against the trunk as the tension drained from him.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  The adrenaline that had kept him steady began to fade, leaving behind the sharp sting of his injured arm. He glanced down at the shallow cuts, blood trickling in thin lines and staining his sleeve. The sight made his stomach twist, but he knew he couldn’t leave it untreated. Infection was the last thing he needed. He tore a strip from the hem of his shirt, wincing as the fabric ripped unevenly. With trembling hands, he wrapped it tightly around his forearm, the pressure stinging but slowing the bleeding. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now. The boy leaned his head back against the trunk, staring up at the canopy above. he sky beyond the twisting branches had softened into hues of lavender and deep blue, the fading light filtering through the leaves in gentle, muted tones. The forest seemed to exhale with the coming of night, its colors dimming into a quiet harmony of shadow and twilight. The edges of the leaves shimmered faintly, catching the last traces of light as if brushed with silver. The air felt cooler now, carrying the scent of damp moss and the faint sweetness of distant blooms. Somewhere in the distance, the rhythmic chirping of unseen creatures began, blending with the soft rustle of the trees as they swayed in the evening breeze. For a moment, the boy let himself sink into the stillness, his body heavy with exhaustion but his mind beginning to clear. Then his eyes caught on something above—a cluster of leaves and twigs wedged between two branches. It was uneven and messy, but unmistakably deliberate. A nest. The realization hit him slowly. Of course, it had been defending something. His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of his own needs. If it was a nest, there might be food. He shifted his weight carefully, testing his balance on the branch before reaching for a higher one. His muscles protested, exhaustion pulling at every movement, but hunger drove him forward. The nest wasn’t far, just a few feet above him. As he climbed, the faint scent of something earthy and sweet reached his nose, spurring him on. When he reached the nest, he paused, his fingers gripping the edge of the branch as he peered inside. Among the tangled mess of leaves and twigs were small, round fruits, their skins smooth and glistening faintly in the dim light. His stomach twisted with both relief and caution. If the thing can eat it, he could probably eat it as well right?. Carefully, he plucked one from the nest, turning it over in his hand before taking a tentative bite. The skin was thin and tough, breaking unevenly under his teeth. The flesh inside was firm, with a tangy, almost sour bite that made his mouth pucker. It wasn’t as sharp as the unripe fruits he’d stolen before, but it lacked the full sweetness of the ripe, cultivated ones he’d occasionally managed to snatch. There was a faint sweetness buried beneath the tang, just enough to make it tolerable. The juice coated his tongue, leaving a slightly earthy aftertaste that reminded him of the wildness of the forest. It wasn’t bad, not really. He chewed slowly, his hunger overriding any hesitation. It wasn’t the kind of fruit that would sell in a market, but it was far from the worst thing he’d eaten. He swallowed, waiting for any sign that it might be unsafe—bitterness, a burning sensation, anything—but none came. It sat heavy in his stomach, easing the gnawing ache of hunger. Encouraged, he took another bite, chewing faster this time. The tang still made his jaw ache, but the faint sweetness lingered, and for now, that was enough.

  The boy relax, his body heavy with exhaustion as the last bite of fruit settled in his stomach. The tang still lingered on his tongue, but the ache of hunger had dulled, replaced by a faint warmth that spread through him. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel like he was on the edge of collapse. The forest around him had grown quieter, the cool night breeze brushed against his skin, carrying with it the faint scent of moss and distant blooms. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a blanket. He shifted slightly, pressing his back more firmly against the trunk, his legs dangling off the branch. The rough bark dug into his skin, but he didn’t care. His body ached, his arm throbbed, and his mind was a haze of exhaustion, but for now, he was safe. The creature was gone, the fruit had eased his hunger, and the forest seemed content to leave him be. His breathing slowed, each exhale softer than the last. The dim light filtering through the canopy above faded into darkness as his eyes fluttered shut. The boy’s thoughts drifted, scattered and fleeting, until they dissolved entirely, leaving only the quiet embrace of sleep.