The snow burned her lungs, each gasp a hot sting against the cold. Her legs ached, her arms trembled, but she didn’t dare slow. Behind her, the growl of the dogs grew closer, and the pounding of boots—hunters, relentless and precise—made her chest hammer in panic.

She clutched the signet tighter, her fingers digging into the smooth metal. Mother’s voice whispered in her mind, Keep running… don’t look back…

Anise’s heart skipped a beat when she caught movement in the shadows above the treeline. A figure, dark and impossibly silent, moved through the pines with a grace that didn’t belong to the hunters.

Who… who’s there? Her voice was a trembling whisper, swallowed immediately by the wind.

The figure dropped from the ridge, landing softly behind her. She spun around, chest heaving, ready to scream—but the being that landed in the snow was not human, or at least not like the hunters. Tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked in dark leather that blended into the shadows, his eyes—sharp, alert, almost predatory—locked onto hers.

“Stay still,” the voice was low, deep, calm. But there was no malice in it, only authority. Something in his presence told her he would not harm her, yet her instincts screamed danger.

Her breath caught in her throat. “W-who… who are you?” she stammered.

“I’m… a friend,” he said, stepping closer but keeping his hands visible, his movements careful. “If you keep running, you’ll live. But if you stop now…” He didn’t finish, but the implication was clear. The hunters were behind her, and they would not hesitate.

Anise’s fingers tightened on the signet. She wanted to scream, to bolt, to run as if the forest itself were on fire—but something in the figure’s eyes stopped her. There was… purpose there. Determination. A promise.

“Can you follow me?” he asked, voice steady. “Quietly. Don’t speak unless I tell you. One wrong move, and they’ll find you.”

Her mind screamed, Trust? How could I trust anyone? But her body was too exhausted to fight, too desperate to argue. She nodded, barely, and started to move with him. Every step was measured, silent, careful.

Behind them, the distant barking of dogs and the harsh shouts of hunters grew nearer, and Anise felt a strange mix of fear and relief. Fear for what was coming, and relief that someone—someone strong—was watching over her now.

She didn’t know if she could survive the night, but for the first time since leaving her mother, she felt a flicker of hope.

And that flicker had a name, though she didn’t yet know it: Thygon.