The next morning broke grey and cold.
Mist curled between the trees like fingers pulling secrets from the earth. No birds sang. Even the insects had gone silent. Something was off—and everyone felt it.
They didn't speak much as they packed up.
Mia kept her distance. David walked ahead, barely looking back. Sarah stayed near Rumi, though her eyes kept drifting toward Mia with unreadable thoughts behind them.
They moved as one, but not together.
Then the sound came.
A long, low howl.
Not a wolf.
Not any animal they recognized.
It echoed through the trees, rolling like thunder in reverse.
Leina froze. "What was that?"
Alimi whispered, "It came from behind us."
"No," Rumi said, hand tightening on his spear. "It came from everywhere."
David looked back. "We need to move."
They started walking faster.
Then running.
But the mist thickened—twisting around trunks, swallowing their path. The trees, once familiar, now loomed like strangers. Roots shifted beneath their feet. Rumi skidded to a stop.
"This isn't just fog," he said. "It's moving with us."
"Like it's herding us," Sarah murmured.
A second sound rose. A hum—deep, musical, ancient. It buzzed in their bones. Mia clutched her ears. Leina stumbled. Alimi dropped to a knee.
Rumi grabbed Sarah's arm. "We need to find shelter."
"There!" Mia pointed to a hollow tree, half-sunken in a slope.
One by one, they crawled inside, panting, shaken.
And that's when they saw it.
Out through the twisted bark, just visible in the mist—
A figure.
Tall.
Cloaked in leaves.
Not walking.
Gliding.
It passed by, not seeing them—or ignoring them. Its shape shimmered like heat. Where it stepped, the ground glowed faintly, then dimmed.
The forest grew silent again.
Minutes passed.
Breathing returned.
"What in the gods' names was that?" Leina whispered.
"Guardian," Mia said faintly. "The old stories said they protect something sacred. But only come when lines are crossed."
David exhaled. "So this... this is our fault?"
"Not fault," Rumi said quietly. "A warning."
They were silent.
In that moment, everything changed.
Petty rivalries, bruised pride, tangled feelings—they still mattered. But not as much as survival. Not as much as the truth now blooming before them:
They were in a forest that was very much alive.
And it was watching.
Rumi looked at David. David nodded. No apology—but a truce.
Sarah reached for Mia's hand. Mia didn't pull away.
"We work together now," Rumi said.
"Agreed," said David.
Outside, the mist cleared just enough to show a path.
A narrow, winding one.
Waiting.