The soft babble of the stream was a strange comfort as I lay sprawled on the mossy bank, gasping for air. Water droplets sparkled in the sunlight, clinging stubbornly to my fur, but the stream's chill did little to douse the fire coursing through my limbs.
I turned my head to the horned rabbit, who sat perched atop a smooth stone on the far side of the stream. Her fur was pristine as always, glowing faintly in the filtered sunlight, and her sharp blue eyes scanned the dense forest beyond us. Despite her calm appearance, her horn gleamed with a faint, menacing aura—a lingering testament to the battle we'd just encountered.
I let out a groan and flopped back down, my ears twitching lazily against the moss.
"So," I muttered, trying to ignore the soreness in my legs,
"Care to explain how we're supposed to survive this forest of death?"
