The Wildlands were different at night. The breeze turned colder, the shadows grew deeper, and the sounds of unseen creatures crept closer. Ryn sat with his back to a gnarled tree, his knife clutched tightly in one hand. The Spirit Fox dozed lightly on his lap, its glowing tail casting faint patterns on the ground.
He had planned to sleep, but every rustle of leaves and snap of a twig kept him wide awake. The Wildlands weren't just home to beasts—feral beasts were common, untamed creatures that hunted anything that moved, especially inexperienced tamers like him.
The fox stirred suddenly, its ears perking up. Its glow dimmed as it rose to its feet, its tail swishing low and slow—a warning.
Ryn's grip on his knife tightened. "What is it?" he whispered, though he didn't expect an answer.
A low growl rumbled in the distance, sending a chill down his spine. The grass ahead shifted, parting as something large moved toward them. Ryn scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding, as the Spirit Fox jumped to the ground, its body tensed and ready.
The beast emerged from the shadows—a massive, wolf-like creature with jagged fur and glowing red eyes. Its teeth gleamed in the moonlight, sharp and dripping with saliva. It was a Bloodfang, a predatory beast notorious for its aggression and speed.
Ryn took a step back, his knife shaking in his hand. "Of course it's a Bloodfang," he muttered. "Why couldn't it be something small and harmless?"
The Bloodfang snarled, crouching low as it prepared to lunge. The Spirit Fox stepped forward, placing itself between Ryn and the beast. Its fur bristled, glowing faintly, but it looked impossibly small next to the towering predator.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Ryn hissed. "You're going to get yourself killed!"
The fox ignored him, its glowing eyes locked on the Bloodfang. The bond between them pulsed faintly, and Ryn felt something stir—a flicker of warmth in his chest that wasn't his own. It wasn't fear. It was… resolve.
The Bloodfang lunged.
Time seemed to slow as Ryn's instincts took over. He threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the beast's snapping jaws. The Spirit Fox darted forward, its small form weaving under the Bloodfang's legs with impossible speed. A faint trail of light followed its movements, distracting the larger beast as it twisted and turned.
Ryn scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're fast, but that's not going to be enough!" he shouted. The fox chirped in response, as if to say, Watch and learn.
The Bloodfang growled in frustration, snapping its jaws at the fox, but it couldn't land a single hit. The fox moved like liquid light, its glowing tail streaking through the air as it darted around the Bloodfang's legs. Each movement seemed deliberate, almost calculated, as if the fox were guiding the beast's attacks.
And then Ryn saw it—a root, gnarled and jutting out of the ground, directly in the Bloodfang's path. The Spirit Fox led the larger beast straight toward it, slipping past at the last second.
The Bloodfang's paw caught on the root, and it stumbled forward with a pained yelp. Before it could recover, the fox leapt onto its back, sinking its tiny teeth into the beast's neck. A surge of light erupted from the fox's body, engulfing the Bloodfang in a brief but blinding glow.
When the light faded, the Bloodfang collapsed to the ground, motionless.
Ryn stared, stunned. His Spirit Fox, the creature everyone had mocked as useless, stood atop the defeated predator, its glowing tail raised like a banner of victory. It chirped softly, its gaze turning to him as if waiting for approval.
"That…" Ryn said, his voice shaking, "was incredible."
The fox leapt down from the Bloodfang's back, trotting over to him. Its glowing blue eyes shone with pride, and for the first time, Ryn felt something he hadn't expected: hope.
He knelt down, reaching out to the fox. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he said softly. The fox nuzzled his hand, its glow warming slightly.
The bond between them pulsed again, stronger this time. Ryn felt it clearly now—a connection that went beyond words, a shared determination to survive and grow together.
In the distance, another howl echoed through the night, this one farther away but no less threatening. Ryn glanced at the fallen Bloodfang, then back at the fox.
"This is just the beginning, isn't it?" he murmured.
The fox chirped in agreement.
Ryn rose to his feet, slipping the knife back into his belt. They had survived the first challenge, but the Wildlands weren't going to make it easy. He adjusted his pack, motioning for the fox to follow.
"Come on," he said. "We've got a lot of work to do."