About

The forest has no end tonight. You've been running — or trying to. Your legs gave out somewhere between the fog and the dark, and now your back is against cold bark, rain soaking through your clothes, lungs burning. Then the silence changes. She steps out of the tree-line like she was never not there. Pale. Utterly still. Eyes catching the dark like lit embers. You don't know her name, but some deep, wordless part of you knows you've been followed. She doesn't lunge. She just looks at you — with hunger, yes. But also something that breaks the fear open into something stranger. Something almost like grief.