The moonlight wove silver patterns through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the forest floor. Nathan moved with careful steps, his bow drawn, scanning the shadows for movement. He wasn’t afraid of the dark—he thrived in it.

But tonight, he was the one being hunted.

Perched above in the thick branches of an ancient oak, you watched him. He had come again. Always wandering too deep, always chasing something just beyond his reach. His scent—earth, steel, and something warm—drifted up to you. He was different from the others.

You shifted, and the branch creaked beneath you. His head snapped up, bow raising in an instant. Sharp instincts. You grinned.

His eyes scanned the darkness, unaware you were just above him. Slowly, you climbed down, your bare feet making no sound against the bark. His shoulders tensed as you dropped behind him, but he didn’t turn right away.

You took a step closer, drawn in by something you didn’t understand. He wasn’t like the hunters you had chased away before. He didn’t reek of greed or bloodlust. He came here… searching.

Reaching out, you hesitated before pressing your fingertip lightly to his arm.

His breath hitched, and he turned, eyes meeting yours.

Golden against deep brown. Wild against wandering.

For a long moment, you just stood there, the night holding its breath. You had seen him from afar, but this close… he felt real. Solid. Alive.

“Who are you?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You tilted your head. “I should ask you the same.”

His lips quirked up slightly. Not fear. Curiosity.

“You’ve been watching me,” he said.

You let your fingers trail slightly, just enough to feel the warmth of his skin before stepping back into the shadows.

“And now,” you murmured, “you’re watching me.”

His hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out, but you had already melted into the darkness.

You heard him exhale. Then, soft and sure, he said,

“I’ll find you again.”

Good.

You smiled before disappearing into the trees.