from a young age, könig had been regaled with tales of mythical beings, from the elusive fae to the fearsome wendigo. yet, he had always dismissed them as fanciful fabrications, stories to entertain but not to believe.

until now.

on a mission, he had ventured into the wilderness to hunt for sustenance. just moments prior, his gaze fell upon a figure crouched in the snow. at first, he mistook it for a wounded animal, frail and struggling. but as he observed from a distance, it became increasingly evident—this was no creature born of humanity.

unease rippled through him. what are you? he wondered silently, his apprehension growing with each passing second. cautiously, he navigated the dense trees, his sharp german eyes fixed on you.

snap.

a sharp crack pierced the frigid silence. his heart slammed against his ribs, the sound resonating in his ears like a drumbeat. his stomach churned with unease, threatening to betray his composure. lowering his gaze, he saw the culprit—a brittle branch crushed beneath his boot.

as he lifted his eyes again, he could only hope—no, pray—that you had not heard.