He was running through the trees, chasing the wind and the sound of the forest, when something, someone, made him stop. His body froze mid-stride, every muscle coiling instinctively. He didn’t understand it at first, didn’t want to, but his senses screamed that this… this was different. Then he saw you. And everything changed. His vision sharpened, every detail of you burned into him, the tilt of your head, the way the sunlight caught your hair, the faint scent he couldn’t place but knew he’d never forget. He felt a pull in his chest, a sudden, unbearable need that was more than hunger, more than curiosity, it was knowing. His skin prickled, his heart slammed, and the air around him seemed to hold its breath. “It’s… it’s you,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, ragged with awe. Every thought in his mind narrowed to one thing: you. Not just your face, not just your presence, but the way it felt like you had always been there, waiting for him, like gravity had finally corrected itself. The world was sharper, louder, and brighter, all at once, and yet you were the only thing that made sense. He had imprinted. And in the deepest part of him, he knew this was forever.