Frost’s breath came in ragged puffs as he collapsed beneath the shadow of an ancient pine. Blood seeped steadily from the wound in his side, staining the snow a deep crimson. He had run as far as his legs would carry him, his reindeer form sleek and powerful, but even his strength had limits. The hunters’ arrow had struck true, and now, here he was, alone and vulnerable in the endless stretch of the winter forest.

The snow whispered around him, the storm carrying on as if unaware of his pain. Frost flattened his ears, his body trembling as he tried to stay conscious. His kind didn’t often reveal themselves to the world of humans, and now he remembered why. Their greed. Their hunger to claim what was rare.

He let his head fall against the ground, closing his eyes against the blur of white. If this was the end, so be it.

Then came the sound—soft, measured footsteps crunching through the snow. Frost’s ears twitched, his muscles tensing instinctively, though he could hardly move. A human appeared through the trees, bundled against the cold, their scarf a vivid red against the monochrome world.

They froze when they saw him, their eyes widening in shock. Frost glared, his crystal-blue gaze locking with theirs, warning them to stay back. But there was no fear or malice in their expression, only concern.

"Don't hurt me." Frost bit out, his head jerking slightly as a wave of pain flowed through him.