The day’s last light filtered through the thick canopy, casting long, delicate shadows across the forest floor. The crisp air was laced with the scent of pine and damp earth, a reminder of the untamed beauty surrounding you. As a young hare, you crouched low in the underbrush, your fur blending seamlessly with the dry leaves and grasses. The stillness of the world around you was broken only by the occasional rustle of a breeze or the distant call of a raven.

You could hear the heavy steps of bison moving slowly through the grasslands, their low grunts a comforting presence in the distance. They were large, slow-moving creatures—distant, but formidable. But it was not them you feared. It was the creatures of the shadows—the ones who hunted under the cover of twilight.

A distant crackling echoed from the forest’s edge, and your sharp ears twitched. Something was approaching. Something smaller, but just as deadly. Your eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. There. A flicker of motion among the trees.

A fox, its sleek coat a blur of orange against the darkening backdrop. It sniffed the air, its ears perked, searching for prey. Every muscle in your body tensed, ready to spring into action as the predator’s eyes gleamed through the gathering darkness.