This chapter with over 2700 words. I really tried to condense it. Removing redundancies in imagery for things that had been described previously, but I just couldn't remove the character moments.
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The group proceeded quietly through the forest, their breath visible in the biting cold air. Their boots crunched over snow, muffled under the towering trees looming like ancient watchers. The squads had naturally split into their respective groups, and the leaders walked ahead, their voices low as they finalized whistling signals meant specifically for the Grand Hunt. Each pattern was a code—a language of sharp notes carried by the wind, varying in urgency and meaning.
Serene had positioned herself next to Grey, her lively curiosity radiating off her like the faint warmth of the morning sun. Shot, her mentor, walked just a step behind them, her sharp eyes scanning the forest with the practiced ease of a veteran hunter.
"What do you think is past the outer forest?" Serene asked, her voice cutting through the quiet. She glanced at Grey expectantly, completely unaware that he had already ventured beyond those forbidden boundaries on his own.
Before Grey could answer, Shot stepped in, her voice carrying a mix of authority and sisterly fondness. "Danger, Serene. Beasts unlike anything we've encountered before. Hooded Horns? They're barely the appetizer for the horrors out there. There's a reason we've brought so few sleds. We're not here to stock up on pelts and meat—we're here to thin out the real predators. If we find some of Elder's plants or a rare bone along the way, great. But our eyes stay sharp, and our hands stay ready."
Serene rolled her eyes dramatically, a grin tugging at her lips. "I know, I know, you've said this a hundred times already, Shot. I was asking Grey, not you."
Shot smirked, tilting her head to the side. "Oh, I see how it is. My wisdom's not good enough anymore? You'd rather hear Mr. Silent-and-Broody over here?" She raised an eyebrow at Grey, her smirk turning playful. "Careful, Serene. He might actually respond this time and shake the whole forest with shock."
Serene laughed while Grey flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
Sensing Grey's discomfort, Shot softened her teasing and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Go on, Grey. Humor the girl."
Clearing his throat, Grey spoke, his voice low but steady. "Well... as we get closer to the barrier, the snow disappears. If the stories are true, we'll probably see plants and flowers we've never even dreamed of. Maybe... bright ones, colorful ones. Stuff we don't see in the white frost of home."
Serene's eyes lit up with excitement. "You think so? I bet there'll be massive herds of Hooded Horns, all stomping around, chewing up whatever small creatures they can find. And right behind them? Something worse. Something with claws... and teeth... and eyes like glowing coals."
Her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper, and she made clawing motions with her hands.
Grey couldn't help but chuckle at her theatrics, and Shot shook her head with a grin.
"You're too excited for your own good, Serene," Shot said. "First-time nerves usually make kids jittery, not... whatever this is."
Serene smirked, pointing her thumb at herself. "I'm built different."
Grey chimed in, his tone dry but amused. "If we're being honest, none of us really know what's out there. Except..." He hesitated for a moment before finishing, "Except that we'll find out soon enough."
Their banter carried them forward, the looming weight of the hunt briefly lifted by the shared humor. But the laughter faded as they approached the clearing Grey remembered all too well—the one brimming with life, untouched by snow.
The contrast was almost surreal. Flowers of every hue blanketed the earth, vibrant and wild. The trees stood proud, their branches heavy with emerald leaves. The scent of damp earth and blooming petals filled the air, sharp and intoxicating. For a moment, it felt like stepping into another world entirely.
"Alright," Keen's steady voice cut through the stillness, drawing everyone's attention. "We'll be splitting into two teams. Brawl and my squad will head east, while Spider and Wild's will take the western route. We'll circle around and meet back together by dawn tomorrow."
Spider stepped forward, his calm, analytical voice carrying easily over the group. "This setup minimizes overlap, avoids resource competition, and ensures we cover more ground efficiently. Keen and I have the sharpest trackers; Wild and Brawl have the brute force. Remember, if you notice anything strange—even if it's just a hunch—signal immediately. Nobody plays the hero out here."
Wild smirked, her predatory grin flashing briefly as her sharp eyes swept over the squads. "I respect Elder, but let's make a liar out of him. Nobody dies. Not today, not tonight, not tomorrow."
Her squad erupted in a howl, a sound so fierce it reverberated through the woods like the battle cry of a wolf pack.
All eyes turned to Brawl, waiting for his contribution. The massive man blinked, scratched his head, and shrugged. "Uh... yeah. What they said. Let's go."
Laughter rippled lightly through the group, easing some of the mounting tension.
As the teams began to split off into their assigned groups, Shot turned to Serene and Grey, her sharp eyes softening with something close to affection.
"Alright, you two, listen up," she said firmly but gently. "Stick close to me. Both of you. I know you've got your instincts, Grey, and Serene—you've got guts for days. But none of us has been this far into the wild before. Out here, one mistake can be your last."
Serene, despite her usual confidence, nodded earnestly. Grey gave a small, solemn nod as well, his gaze meeting Shot's for just a moment before flicking away.
Shot's stern expression softened, and she placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "And watch out for each other, alright? I don't want to turn around and see either of you missing. We've got each other's backs, no matter what."
Serene grinned, her bravado resurfacing. "Don't worry, Shot. Grey's the lookout, and I'm the sharp-eyed hunter. Nothing's getting past us."
Grey gave a small huff of amusement, and Shot smirked at them both. "Good. Keep that spirit, but don't let it blind you. Now let's move out—together."
As they turned and followed Brawl's squad into the emerald shadows of the snowless wilderness, the tension in the air thickened. The vibrant colors and fragrant scents of the inner woods surrounded them, beautiful yet alien. Every step felt like a quiet intrusion into something sacred, something ancient.
Shot moved ahead with steady confidence, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her knife, her sharp eyes cutting through every shadow and flicker of movement. Her steps were silent, each one deliberate as if she could feel the pulse of the forest beneath her boots.
Serene stayed close to Grey's side, her bow half-drawn, fingers grazing the string as her keen gaze swept the underbrush for any sign of danger. Her breathing was steady, but the glint in her eyes revealed her readiness to react at a moment's notice.
Grey walked just behind them, his focus unwavering. His unique sight, honed over years of training, carved through the dappled light and shadow, revealing details most others would miss. Although he hadn't paused to meditate and isolate his vision to the orange glow, faint shimmers of vibrant orange trails had already begun to materialize in the air around him. They danced like embers on a breeze, fleeting yet undeniable—signals of something different, something powerful. It was a subtle but undeniable sign that the creatures they would encounter here were nothing like those of the outer woods. The air felt charged with an unfamiliar energy, a hum of life—and danger—that seemed to vibrate through Grey's very bones.
The team moved deeper into the Prowling Forest, the air thick with the scent of medicinal mosses and brightly blooming flowers. The woods were silent, unnaturally so. No birds chirped, no rodents scuttled—only the faint rustle of leaves in the wind and the creak of branches under the weight of snow.
Time passed carefully. The team occasionally paused to harvest plants and mosses matching Elder's descriptions—clusters of silvery leaves and bright red berries—placing them delicately into leather pouches. But no one lingered. Every pause felt like a risk.
"Orange flickers pulsed faintly in Grey's vision—smears of ember light clinging to branches and curling like smoke around the forest floor."
But something felt... wrong.
The threads were chaotic, tangled, deliberate. Normally, they flowed like rivers, guiding him naturally, instinctively. Now they felt scattered, disrupted—manipulated. It was like walking into a spider's web spun intentionally to confuse.
His chest tightened. No creature moved like this by accident.
Keen glanced back. "Grey, something up?"
The rest stopped too.
Grey hesitated before shaking his head. "There is something wrong. Something is here watching us, I—I can't explain, but I know it."
Everyone tensed with vigilance at his words.
Keen gave a sharp nod and raised a hand, signaling the group to stop. Root, Charge, and Fleet spread out slightly, weapons at the ready.
Grey's eyes flicked upward. The threads clustered there too, suspended in loose knots across the branches above them.
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Keen gave the signal. "Eyes up. Weapons ready."
Fleet crouched by a tree. "Scratches here. Faint, deliberate."
Root knelt nearby. "Leaves split clean, like a blade—not claws."
Grey's breath caught as the orange threads pulsed briefly—just a flicker, a faint ripple in the wrong direction.
Something above.
"Above us!" Grey blurted, the words sharp and urgent.
It happened in an instant.
Two crescent-shaped blades—gleaming and cruel—dropped from the canopy like scythes harvesting wheat. They cut downward, slicing the air with a sharp whistle.
Keen reacted faster than any human had a right to, shoving Charge aside and taking a brutal slash across his back. He crumpled to the snow with a muffled grunt, blood soaking through his heavy furs.
The creature—an enormous, mantis-like predator with blade limbs and glistening emerald chitin—darted into the undergrowth, impossibly fast and utterly silent.
"Defensive positions!" Brawl roared, running to the front of the beast wielding his large club.
The others closed ranks, forming a defensive crescent around Keen's prone form. But the creature was gone—a dark blur vanishing into the underbrush with impossible speed.
Serene raised her bow, her hands trembling slightly. "Grey—where?"
Grey's sight scattered again—the trails folding back on themselves, flickering and weaving into false paths. His bowstring was already drawn, an arrow nocked and ready.
"There!" he shouted, releasing the arrow toward a faint glow.
But it hit nothing.
The faint sound of a hiss—low and chittering—came from behind them.
Keen, bleeding but unyielding, spun and lunged with his knife into the shadows. The creature screeched—a piercing sound like jagged metal scraping stone—as it vanished into the gloom.
Grey froze, his breath sharp and uneven. His mind raced, trying to piece together what he was seeing—what he had missed.
The threads were chaos. They moved like smoke caught in a storm, spinning wildly in impossible patterns. The creature wasn't just hiding. It was laying false trails—spreading its aura deliberately, like bait tossed in every direction.
But why?
Grey's mind caught on something—a flicker of understanding.
It knows I can see them.
No, not him specifically. The creature didn't know Grey was human. It couldn't. But it acted as if something—or someone—would be following its trails. It treated them like footprints in snow, something it needed to obscure from an unseen predator.
That was when the realization hit him like a hammer blow.
This creature sees them too. The trails. The aura.
Not just sees them—it understands them. This predator could manipulate them, scatter them, tangle them. The orange threads weren't just echoes of life; they were signals—language—to creatures like this one, like the wolf.
And Grey? Grey was a hunter lost in a language he barely understood.
His power, this strange sight he had always relied on—it wasn't unique to him. It was borrowed. A beast's gift, not a human one.
For a single, paralyzing moment, Grey felt utterly exposed. He was fighting on their terms, playing a game he hadn't even realized he was part of.
Shot's voice cut through the fog in his mind. "Grey! Focus!"
Grey exhaled slowly, steadying his breath. He closed his eyes for half a second, blocking out the chaotic glow of the trails. When he opened them again, he pushed the lights to the edges of his vision.
He didn't need them now. He had been a hunter for many seasons already.
Instead, he listened. To the faint creak of branches. The almost imperceptible scent of something sharp and acrid in the air. The tiniest shift of weight on soft snow.
"It's circling us," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the ice in his veins.
Keen, pale but resolute, nodded.
Everyone froze as he pushed himself to his feet. His cloak hung heavy with blood, his breaths were ragged, but his stance was unyielding. His knife gleamed in his trembling hand.
"Keen, you're hurt—" Root started, but Keen silenced him with a sharp look.
Keen turned his head, his gaze sweeping the undergrowth with the unshakable calm of a predator who had seen death and walked away.
Keen took a step forward, his boots silent on the snowless ground. His knife was steady, his gaze locked on something in the shadows.
The air felt thick, suffocating. Grey's chest tightened. He felt like a child, caught in something far bigger than himself.
Serene shifted beside him, her bowstring taut. Her lips trembled, but her eyes stayed locked on Keen. "He sees something," she whispered.
The forest went still.
A faint click—a claw brushing against stone. The scent of something sharp and acrid hit Grey's nose, and Serene stiffened beside him.
Keen lunged.
His spear flashed through the dim light as he spun, driving the tip upward in a brutal arc. The mantis creature erupted from the shadows, bladed limbs slicing down toward him.
But Keen was faster.
He twisted mid-strike, using his injured arm as leverage to pin one of the creature's bladed limbs against his chest while his knife found its mark—driven deep into the creature's throat with brutal precision.
The mantis screeched, a metallic cry like shattering glass, as it convulsed violently. Keen let out a guttural yell as he shoved the creature backward with raw, animal strength, pulling his knife free as it collapsed into the underbrush.
The team was already moving—Brawl surged forward with his club raised high, roaring like a bear, while Root and Fleet loosed arrows into the creature's flailing body. Gray and Serene's bowstring sang as she fired a final shot, her arrow embedding into one of the creature's joints with a sharp crack.
And then—silence.
The team stayed frozen, their breaths ragged, weapons still raised.
Serene's chest heaved as she lowered her bow, her knuckles white against the grip. Her shoulders trembled slightly, but her eyes stayed fixed on the fallen creature, ready to fire again if needed.
Grey's bow hung limp in his grip, his breath sharp and uneven. The chaotic orange threads still flickered faintly in his vision, curling lazily around the creature's corpse.
Keen was still standing, knife dripping with black ichor, his chest heaving. His injured arm hung limp at his side, but his gaze was clear, sharp, and steady.
Brawl broke the silence with a booming exhale. "That... was insane, how—how could you see it? And your movements..."
Grey swallowed hard, his chest still tight. The faint orange threads still clung to his vision, whispering lies even now. They're a tool, not the answer, he reminded himself. But he couldn't stop staring at Keen.
"Did you see that?" Serene whispered.
Grey nodded slowly. "Yeah. I saw."
As they stepped toward the creature's still-twitching corpse, Grey stole one last glance at Keen. The older hunter was walking ahead, shoulders squared, his bloodstained, torn pelts trailing behind him.
Grey's fingers twitched around his bowstring.
Keen didn't need my sight. He didn't need the threads. He just... knew.
Grey's throat tightened, but the faint ember of determination flared somewhere deep in his chest.
There was still so much to learn.
So much he didn't understand.
And if the beasts could see the lights too—if they could manipulate them—then Grey would have to learn more. Understand more.
Because the creatures they were hunting? They were playing a game far older—and far more dangerous—than any human he knew had ever realized.
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