IThe forest was a tapestry of autumn's glory. A soft breeze stirred the amber and gold leaves that floated lazily to the cold earth, where they blanketed the ground in a quilt of shifting colors. The forest floor was alive with subtle sounds: the crunch of leaves, the rustle of branches, and the faint chatter of animals darting away from the approaching footsteps.Hagar walked steadily through the forest, his strides purposeful and even. His dark cloth pants and tan long-sleeved shirt were plain but practical, reinforced by a leather tunic that hugged his broad frame. A grey hooded cloak hung over his shoulders, trailing behind him and kicking up the fallen leaves as he moved. A sturdy bow was slung over his shoulder, and a quiver peeked out from under the cloak. In his hand, he carried a spear, its worn shaft doubling as a walking staff. His posture exuded confidence, his movements deliberate and precise.Trailing slightly behind him was Tyr, a boy of no more than 8, dressed in an oversized white cloth shirt that hung awkwardly on his thin frame and ragged cloth pants patched in several places. A brown hooded cloak kept the chill at bay, though it did little to conceal his youth and inexperience. A small wooden bow hung at his side, and a leather backpack bounced gently against his back as he walked.Tyr looked up at Hagar, his eyes searching for a way to break the silence that had fallen between them. His voice, uncertain but curious, finally broke through."Uhm… do trees always change their colors like this?"Hagar glanced down at the boy, his tone calm and instructive. "Every fall, the leaves change color and drop to the ground. It's how the trees prepare for winter." He paused, giving Tyr a sideways glance. "Have you not seen a forest during fall before?"Tyr shook his head, his expression tinged with embarrassment. "No. I've only ever lived in the city. The first time I saw a forest was when I woke up here."Hagar's brows furrowed as he processed the boy's words.How could he have ended up so deep in the forest without ever being in one before?The thought lingered, but he said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them.After a moment, Tyr spoke again, curiosity lacing his tone. "Have you always lived out here?""No," Hagar replied curtly."Where did you grow up?""Edolas.""Where's that?""Far from here.""Why did you come out here?"Hagar's tone grew firmer, tinged with annoyance. "Somewhere far away from there.""Why did you leave?" Tyr pressed, undeterred.Hagar stopped abruptly, fixing the boy with a sharp look. "Why do you ask so many questions?"Tyr's face fell, and he muttered under his breath, "I just wanted to know more about you…"Hagar's expression softened, guilt tugging at the edges of his voice. He let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, boy. It's not that I don't want to talk… it's just that my reasons for being out here aren't something I wish to share."Tyr nodded, though the disappointment in his eyes was hard to miss."Okay," he said softly.The two continued in silence, the only sounds now the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the occasional snap of a twig. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the forest in hues of orange and deep purple, Hagar finally broke the quiet."We need to set up camp," he said, his tone commanding but not harsh. He surveyed the clearing they had entered, nodding in satisfaction. "I'll handle the campfire and shelter. You," he gestured to Tyr with a tilt of his head, "find us something for dinner. Put those new archery skills of yours to the test."Tyr's face lit up at the challenge, and he straightened his posture, determination sharpening his features. "Right!" he said, gripping his bow tightly and striding off into the woods with a newfound sense of purpose.Hagar watched him disappear into the trees, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. This will be a good test for him, he thought, setting down his pack and beginning the preparations for their camp.IITyr moved deeper into the forest; each step deliberate as he marked his path. Using his knife, he carved small arrows into the bark of trees, each one pointing back toward Hagar. The memory of Hagar's lesson echoed in his mind:"Remember, boy, if you ever venture somewhere, you might get lost, always leave yourself a way out."He smiled faintly as he stepped back from his latest mark. "This should do," he muttered, continuing forward.The forest felt alive with movement, though none of it visible. Tyr's senses were sharp now, his eyes scanning for signs of game. His thoughts wandered again to Hagar's instructions, this time recalling the moment he first learned to track."Boy, over here!"Tyr had rushed over, his voice eager. "Yes?"Hagar gestured to the ground where hoofprints pressed deep into the damp earth. "What do you see?"Tyr studied the marks, his brow furrowing. "Are those animal tracks?""Correct. What else?"Tyr examined them further but shrugged, unsure. "They just look like footprints to me."Hagar crouched beside him, his tone instructive. "When tracking, you must determine if the tracks are fresh or old. Look at the edges." He pointed to the track's sharp outlines. "Crisp edges mean they're fresh. Older tracks erode and fade. Are these fresh?"Tyr peered closer, nodding confidently. "Yes, they're fresh."Hagar smiled, patting him on the head. "Good work, boy. Now, follow them."Back in the present, Tyr knelt by a set of hoofprints in the damp soil, the edges sharp and distinct. "Fresh," he whispered. Following the tracks with care, he stumbled across a mound of animal droppings.Another memory came to him:"If you're close, the dung might still be warm. Hold your hand above it to check, but don't touch it, boy."Tyr crouched and hovered his hand over the droppings. Warmth radiated upward, and his heart quickened. "They're close," he whispered. He licked a finger and held it up, testing the wind's direction. The breeze flowed into his face. "Good," he muttered. "I'm downwind."The tracks led him to a clearing, where a magnificent stag grazed on fallen leaves and forest debris. Its antlers reached skyward like ancient tree branches, its coat a rich, warm brown. Tyr's breath caught as he crouched low, recalling Hagar's patient teachings."What do you do now?""I shoot it with my bow!" Tyr had said, brimming with confidence."Wrong," Hagar replied. "What direction is the wind blowing?"Back in the present, Tyr steadied his breathing, his body calm despite the excitement coursing through him. With practiced precision, he nocked an arrow, pulling the bowstring back in one smooth motion. He released.The arrow sliced through the air with a faint whistle before finding its mark behind the stag's shoulder. The animal collapsed with a soft thud, its body shuddering. Tyr approached cautiously, pulling a knife from his cloak. Kneeling beside the fallen creature, he placed a hand on its side, feeling the faint rise and fall of its breath. "I'll make it quick," he murmured. With a steady hand, he plunged the blade into the stag's heart, ending its suffering.Blood pooled beneath the body, and Tyr worked efficiently, taking only the meat he needed. His knife glided through flesh, the cuts clean and precise. The forest seemed still, watching, as if holding its breath.Then a sharp snap.Tyr froze, his ears straining. A low, guttural growl broke the silence. Slowly, he lifted his gaze. Emerging from the shadows was a wolf, its massive frame nearly double Tyr's size. Its silver-gray coat bristled, and its lips curled back to reveal bloodstained fangs.The wolf snarled, saliva dripping as it bared its teeth. Its eyes burned with predatory hunger, fixed on Tyr's kill—and on Tyr himself.Memories of another wolf flashed through Tyr's mind, the beast that had once left him broken and terrified. But this time, he wasn't the same boy. His hand crept toward his bow lying in the grass.The wolf lunged.In a single, fluid motion, Tyr grabbed an arrow and loosed it. The shot grazed the wolf's leg, drawing blood but failing to stop its charge. Before he could react, the wolf was on him, pinning him to the ground. Its jaws snapped inches from his face as he wedged his bow between its teeth, using all his strength to hold it back.The beast's claws raked across his arm, and hot blood seeped through his shirt. Tyr cried out in pain but refused to let go. His gaze flicked to the knife lying a foot away, glinting faintly in the dim light.I need to move—now.Summoning his strength, Tyr released one hand from the bow, reaching for the knife. The wolf pressed harder, snarling and snapping, but Tyr's fingers found the hilt. With a cry of desperation, he plunged the blade into the wolf's side, again and again. Forcing the wolf to retreat in desperation.Tyr staggered to his feet, his breath ragged, arm throbbing from the wolf's earlier assault. The beast circled him, blood dripping from its wounds, but its feral gaze burned with undeterred hunger. Tyr's hand gripped his bow tightly, an arrow already nocked. He drew in a deep breath, calming the tremor in his hands.The wolf charged, its snarls tearing through the silence like a war cry.Time seemed to slow, the chaos of the moment dissolving into a sharp, surreal focus. Tyr drew the bowstring back, his muscles screaming in protest, the wood of the bow creaking under the immense tension. His vision narrowed, the wolf's head the only target in his sights. He could feel a strange heat building in his chest, surging into his arm as though something deep within him had awakened.The arrow released with a sound like a thunderclap, the force reverberating through the clearing. The projectile flew faster than sight, the air splitting around it in a violent sonic burst. The sheer speed and power left a faint wake of mist trailing behind it.The arrow struck the wolf's skull with devastating precision. The beast's head didn't just fracture—it exploded in a grotesque eruption of flesh, bone, and brain matter. The sharp squelch of bone cracking and flesh tearing echoed through the forest as a crimson mist filled the air. Chunks of gore splattered the ground, leaves, and trees nearby, painting the clearing in vivid streaks of red.But the arrow didn't stop.It blasted straight through the wolf's obliterated skull and continued its deadly path, embedding itself in a massive ironwood tree at the clearing's edge. The impact was so forceful that the ancient tree shuddered violently, a deep crack snaking up its trunk. The mighty ironwood groaned, its roots straining against the earth as the upper half of the tree splintered and fell with a deafening crash, shaking the ground beneath Tyr's feet.For a moment, the clearing was silent, the air thick with the scent of blood and splintered wood. The wolf's lifeless body collapsed mid-charge, skidding to a halt in a limp heap before Tyr. Its torso was still intact, but its head was unrecognizable—a crater of gore where its snarling face had been moments before.Tyr stood frozen, his chest heaving as the bow slipped from his trembling hands. His arm hung limp, the muscles spent and searing with pain. His gaze shifted from the wolf's mangled corpse to the shattered ironwood, where his arrow now rested half-buried in the trunk, still quivering.What… just happened? he thought, his mind racing. How did I do that?His body felt drained, the raw power he'd unleashed leaving him trembling and lightheaded. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees, the forest spinning around him. He clenched his fists, trying to ground himself, the realization of his newfound strength both exhilarating and terrifying.The crimson-stained clearing was silent once more, save for the faint rustle of leaves and the distant echoes of the felled tree. Tyr forced himself to his feet, gathering the meat he'd harvested from the stag and his bloodied knife. His mind swirled with unanswered questions, but for now, he focused on the path back to Hagar.