The Ancient Forest pulsed with life, but something within its dense underbrush was no longer moving as it should.The Shepherd Hare sat on its haunches, its normally alert frame frozen in unnatural stillness. Its whiskers twitched, but not in response to any sound or scent. Its wide eyes, once sharp and filled with the wariness of prey, had begun to cloud over, pupils dilated and unfocused. A tremor ran through its limbs. The infection was spreading.Inside, the spore had grown. What had started as microscopic tendrils had woven their way through muscle and sinew, wrapping around nerve endings, whispering impulses the hare did not understand. Its heartbeat was slower now, its breath uneven. It should have been afraid. It should have been running.The underbrush rustled.A Jagras slinked forward, yellow scales blending with the dappled moonlight filtering through the trees. Its narrow eyes locked onto the hare, hunger glinting in its gaze. Prey should flee, should bound away in a desperate bid for survival. But the hare remained still, only its trembling muscles betraying that something inside still clung to old instincts.The Jagras hesitated. Something was wrong. The scent of the hare was familiar, yet off—damp and earthy, tinged with something faintly sour. But hunger overrode caution. With a low snarl, it lunged.Teeth sank into fur and flesh. A strangled, gurgling sound escaped the hare's throat, its body convulsing once before falling limp. The Jagras lifted its head, the lifeless form of its prey dangling from its jaws. The infection had won its first victory.Warm blood coated the Jagras's tongue as it swallowed hunks of meat. But the moment it did, something shifted. Its limbs twitched. A pulse of something alien slithered down its throat, spreading through its body like wildfire. The spore, now strengthened by its first host, took root again.For a brief moment, the Jagras staggered, its powerful frame seizing up. Its breathing hitched. Confusion flickered in its eyes as the parasite whispered along its nerves, testing its new vessel. It had learned from the hare. This body was different—stronger, faster. The infection coiled through muscles, spreading deeper, careful not to kill its host too quickly. There was still so much to learn.Then, the Jagras stilled.Its hunger remained, but something had changed. Its eyes, once sharp and reactive, flickered with something deeper. Awareness. It flexed its claws experimentally, sniffing the air. And then, ever so subtly, its throat worked. A faint sound, almost like a chirp, left its mouth—eerily close to the noise a Shepherd Hare might make to call for others of its kind.The infection was growing. And it was learning how to spread.