Huǐ Yuān awoke to the faint chirping of birds, his body stiff and aching. The hollow beneath the log was damp, the air thick with the scent of rotting wood and wet earth. Morning light filtered through cracks in the decaying timber above, casting fractured golden streaks across his coiled form. He uncoiled slowly, hissing as torn scales scraped against the rough bark beneath him.
*Still alive. Barely.*
The warmth from the mouse he'd eaten the night before lingered faintly in his core, a fragile ember that barely kept the cold at bay. He focused on it, prodding it with his mind, and felt it stir. Tentatively, he willed it toward the deepest gash on his back—a wound left by the rabbit's claws. The energy flowed sluggishly, like honey dripping through his veins, and as it reached the injury, the torn flesh began to knit together.
*It's healing me.*
The relief was immediate. The throbbing pain dulled, replaced by a soothing numbness. But as the wound closed, the warmth in his core dwindled, leaving him hollow and ravenous. His stomach cramped violently, a visceral reminder of the cost.
*Healing consumes energy. The more I heal, the hungrier I get.*
He curled tighter, pressing his head against the damp wood. The forest outside hummed with life—birdsong, rustling leaves, the distant chatter of squirrels—but Huǐ Yuān felt utterly alone. Memories flooded his mind unbidden: his sister's laughter as she threw a pillow at him, his grandfather's calloused hands placing a steaming bowl of noodles on the table, the smell of chalkdust and sunlight filtering through classroom windows.
*I miss it. I miss school. I miss being human. I miss…*
A fat droplet of water fell from the log above, splashing onto his snout. He flinched, the cold shock snapping him back to reality.
*Why did this happen to me? All I do now is hide, eat, and hurt. Is this all I am? A snake, crawling in the dirt?*
The despair threatened to swallow him whole. But then, a spark of defiance flared in his chest.
*No. I won't give up. I survived that rabbit. I'll survive this too.*
He focused again on the faint warmth in his core, probing its edges. It wasn't just a reservoir of energy—it pulsed rhythmically, like a second heartbeat. When he closed his eyes, the darkness behind his lids shifted. Flickers of light began to appear, faint at first, then brighter.
*Life force.*
The forest transformed in his mind. The trees were skeletal shadows, but every living creature glowed like a star. Insects shimmered as dim pinpricks. A mouse scurrying through the undergrowth pulsed like a tiny ember. Birds in the canopy blazed like fireflies. And far above, a hawk circled, its aura a searing white-hot beacon.
*Predators. The stronger they are, the brighter they burn.*
His tongue flicked out instinctively, tasting the air. The faint musk of a rabbit lingered nearby, but when he focused on its life force, it was… underwhelming. A steady amber glow, nothing like the hawk's brilliance.
*The rabbit that attacked me. It felt unstoppable, but its life force is only medium here. What does that make the others?*
A sudden, suffocating pressure made him recoil. Deep within the cave he'd escaped, something radiated a monstrous aura—a roiling storm of crimson and black, pulsing like a diseased heart. Its energy was oppressive, choking, as if the air itself curdled around it.
*What* is *that?*
The memory of the cave's damp walls and skittering beetles resurfaced. He'd thought it empty, but now he realized his mistake. The creature's presence was so overwhelming, even the trees near the cave entrance seemed to lean away, their roots gnarled and twisted as if recoiling.
*If that thing is in there, nothing else will dare come close. It's the safest place to rest.*
The irony wasn't lost on him. The most dangerous spot in the forest was also the only haven.
---
Huǐ Yuān slithered out of the hollow, his body still sore but functional. The forest floor was littered with fallen leaves and twigs, each crunch a potential alarm. He moved cautiously, his tongue flicking rhythmically to map the scents around him. His new sense of life forces overlapped with the physical world, creating a disorienting double vision. A beetle scuttling under a rock glowed faintly blue; a spider weaving its web pulsed dull green.
*Focus. Find prey.*
A flicker of movement caught his attention—a frog crouched near a puddle, its life force a weak, flickering yellow. Huǐ Yuān froze, his coils tightening.
*Easy. Slow.*
He stalked forward, inch by inch, his scales brushing silently against the damp soil. The frog's throat bulged as it croaked, oblivious. When he struck, his fangs sank into its hind leg. The warmth flooded him instantly, a trickle compared to the boar or even the mouse, but enough to steady his trembling muscles.
*Enough to keep going.*
As he swallowed the frog whole, he noticed something new—the creature's life force hadn't just replenished his energy. Fragments of its memories flickered in his mind: the cool comfort of the puddle, the taste of flies, the shadow of a heron passing overhead.
*I can… sense their experiences?*
The revelation unsettled him. Was this part of his power, or something darker? He pushed the thought aside.
---
By dusk, Huǐ Yuān had marked the territories of three predators: the hawk, a fox with a smoldering orange aura, and a boar whose life force churned like molten iron. He gave them all a wide berth, slithering through the undergrowth like a ghost.
When night fell, he returned to the cave's entrance. The monstrous aura within throbbed faintly, but its very presence kept the forest silent. No owls hooted. No rodents scurried. Even the wind seemed to avoid the area.
*Safe. For now.*
He curled up in the shadows, his body pressed against the cold stone. The warmth from the frog pulsed weakly in his core, a fragile shield against the dark.
*I'll survive. One step at a time.*
As sleep claimed him, his final thought was not of fear, but strategy.
*Tomorrow, I'll test this life force sense further. If I can track prey, maybe I can avoid predators. Maybe… I can even find a way home.*
The hope was thin, brittle, but it was enough.