The sun peeked through the canopy of trees surrounding Forestside, casting dappled light across the village's winding dirt paths. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, the promise of breakfast drawing villagers out of their homes. Somewhere nearby, a rooster crowed, its call answered by the bleating of goats.
Kail stretched on the floor of the modest cottage he shared with Sandra, Walter, and their two children, Dial and Elara. He stifled a yawn, his eyes darting to the small window that offered a glimpse of the forest edge. His thoughts wandered... as they often did.
"Kail! Get up already!" Sandra's voice jolted him upright. He scrambled to his feet just in time to see her pop her head into the room, her hands dusted with flour. "Breakfast is ready, and if you don't come now, Elara might eat your share."
"She can try," Kail muttered, grinning.
As he stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted by the sight of Elara perched on her stool, crumbs dotting her lips. She grinned mischievously.
"I'm saving your bread for you, Kail," she said innocently, holding up half a loaf.
"Sure you are," Kail replied, snatching it before she could take another bite.
Dial sat at the table, sipping porridge with his usual calm demeanor. A book lay open beside his bowl, its pages already well-worn despite the early hour.
"You know," Kail said, plopping down next to him, "one of these days, you're going to read so much your brain will fry."
Dial glanced at him without lifting his head. "And one of these days, you'll talk so much your mouth will fall off."
"That doesn't even make sense," Kail shot back, tearing into his bread.
"You don't make sense," Dial quipped.
Sandra clapped her hands, interrupting their banter. "Boys, enough. Walter needs help with the southern fence, and he's expecting the two of you to be there on time."
Kail groaned but nodded. "Guess that means no sneaking off for you today, Dial."
Dial gave him a pointed look. "I think we both know who does the sneaking."
The southern edge of the village was alive with the quiet hum of nature. Tall trees swayed gently, their branches reaching skyward as though stretching after a long sleep. Kail and Dial trudged along the path, tools slung over their shoulders, while Elara skipped ahead, pretending her twig was a sword.
"You ever think about what's out there?" Kail asked, gesturing vaguely toward the forest.
Dial raised an eyebrow. "Out where?"
"Out there," Kail repeated. "The forest, the world beyond it. Don't you ever wonder?"
"No," Dial said flatly.
"Liar."
"Alright," Dial admitted, "sometimes. But I'd rather wonder about things that won't get me in trouble."
"You're such a bore," Kail said, grinning. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"Adventure doesn't build fences," Dial replied.
Elara interrupted their bickering by darting between them, brandishing her twig. "I'll protect you, Kail! From all the scary monsters!"
"Monsters?" Kail laughed. "What monsters? You mean Dial?"
Dial rolled his eyes. "If there are monsters out there, they'd probably go for the loudest in here. So, you."
Kail opened his mouth to retort but stopped short. The air around them felt...off. The usual symphony of birds and insects had quieted, replaced by an almost oppressive silence.
"Do you hear that?" Elara asked, her child-like voice barely above a whisper.
Dial frowned. "I don't hear anything."
"Exactly."
Kail's grip on his axe tightened as a shiver ran down his spine. He scanned the forest, but the trees betrayed nothing. Still, the unease lingered, like a shadow just out of sight.
"It's probably nothing," Kail said, forcing a grin. "Maybe the animals are taking a nap."
Dial didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Let's finish up and head back. No point standing around."
The evening meal brought the villagers together, laughter and chatter filling the central square. Wooden tables groaned under the weight of roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and smoked fish. Children darted between the adults, their laughter echoing in the twilight.
Kail sat with Dial and Elara, tearing into a hunk of bread while Dial carefully peeled an apple.
"You're too serious," Kail said, watching him.
"And you're not serious enough," Dial replied.
"Maybe that's why we're friends," Kail smirked.
Dial chuckled softly, but his expression grew thoughtful. "Do you ever think about what you'd do if something happened to the village? If we had to leave?"
Kail blinked, caught off guard. "Why would you ask that?"
Dial shrugged. "Just a thought."
Kail didn't answer. He glanced around at the familiar faces, the glow of the fire casting warm light on their features. The thought of losing this—losing them—was something he didn't want to entertain.
Elara broke the silence, her voice bright despite the somber turn. "Mom and Dad say the forest protects us. That as long as we stay together, nothing bad will happen."
Dial smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. Kail looked away, his gaze drifting to the dark line of trees at the forest's edge.
For the briefest moment, he thought he saw something move. A shadow, quick and silent, slipping between the trunks.
When he blinked, it was gone.
That night, Kail lay awake in his corner of the cottage. The warmth of the hearth did little to chase away the chill that had settled in his bones.
He stared at the ceiling, replaying the day's events in his mind. The silence in the forest, the unease he couldn't shake, and Dial's strange question.
Somewhere outside, a branch snapped.
Kail sat up, his heart pounding. He strained his ears, but the night offered no answers.
"Just the wind," he muttered to himself, though the words rang hollow.
He lay back down, pulling the blanket tighter around him. But sleep didn't come easily, and when it did, it was restless and filled with shadows.