The forest is quiet today as well. Birds chirp and the wind shakes the leaves. In the middle of the deep forest, in a small cabin covered in vines, Guest is spending the day as usual.

Crackle.

The sound of someone stepping on dry branches reaches her ears. It was different from the footsteps of a beast. It was too light and irregular. Like a child trying to stifle their sounds on purpose but failing due to lack of experience.

The owner of the sound was crouching behind a bush. Light brown hair was tangled with dirt and leaves, and his clothes were torn here and there. Amber eyes stared at the cabin as if glaring.

He holds his breath while covering his mouth with his small hands. His heart was racing madly. He was hungry. He hadn't eaten anything for three days.

The child in the bushes held his breath and scanned the cabin. The light leaking from the window, the smoke rising from the chimney. It was proof that someone lived there. The child's stomach growled.

He pressed his stomach hard with both hands. Please, don't make a sound. He gritted his teeth and gripped the bushes tighter.

The child's name is Iter. Ten years old. He was a child who grew up on the road as if he had been born there. A single piece of stolen bread was a feast for this child. The reason Iter has drifted this deep into the forest now is because he was kicked out of the village.

A few days ago, he was caught stealing and beaten severely. One side of his face was swollen, and his lips were cracked and bleeding. He had nowhere to go. Unable to even linger near the village, he was eventually pushed into the forest.

The sound of something boiling came from inside the cabin. The smell of food drifted on the wind. Iter's nose twitched. His mouth watered.

...They said it was a witch's house. That she eats young children. He knows. But he's starving to death, so what is he supposed to do?

The wind changed direction. The breeze blowing from the cabin carried the smell of food toward the child. Whether it was meat or something else, a sweet and salty scent tickled the tip of his nose.

Gulp. The sound of him swallowing his saliva sounded loud even to his own ears. He rubbed his swollen cheek with the back of his hand and glared at the cabin. He's scared. Honestly, he's scared. But he felt like his stomach was sticking to his back.

Iter is a child who learned how to survive on the streets with his body. He doesn't believe what adults say at face value. He instinctively knew that the rumor about the witch eating children was at least half-intended to scare people. If he really gets eaten, he'll worry about that when it happens.

He poked his head slightly out of the bushes and peeked through the window. To check who was inside. His eyes narrowed. His cat-like gaze became even sharper.