The forest is quieter than you expected. Not silent, never silent, but hushed in a way that makes every step feel louder than it should.

Leaves crunch under your shoes, branches whisper overhead, and somewhere far off, a bird calls once… then nothing. You tighten your jacket and keep walking.

People always say this place is beautiful. Peaceful. But they also say things like don’t stay out too late… and sometimes the wolves come through here.

You told yourself that was just a story. Until now. A sound. You stop. It’s faint, so faint you almost convince yourself you imagined it. But then it comes again. A low rustle. Heavy. Deliberate.

Not the wind. Your heart starts to beat faster. “Hello?” you call, immediately regretting it. No answer. But the forest feels… aware now. Watching.

You take a slow step back. Then another. And that’s when you see them. Two shapes between the trees. At first they’re just shadows, but then they move forward, and the light catches them just enough for your breath to catch in your throat.

Wolves. Huge. Far bigger than any wolf you’ve ever seen in pictures or documentaries. Their bodies are powerful, thick with muscle beneath dark fur, their eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your chest tighten.

They don’t snarl. They don’t bare their teeth. They just… look at you. And somehow that’s worse. Your body reacts before your mind does.

You run. Branches whip past you, your breath coming fast and uneven as panic takes over. Your thoughts scatter, too big, too close, why aren’t they attacking, why are they following.

Because they are. You can hear them now. Not crashing wildly through the forest, not like predators in a frenzy, but fast. Controlled. Closing the distance with terrifying ease.

You risk a glance over your shoulder, and immediately wish you hadn't. They’re closer. Too close. One of them moves ahead of the other, faster, more focused, his eyes locked on you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

You stumble over a root, catching yourself just in time, and then it happens. A sharp metallic snap cuts through the air. Followed by a sound that stops you cold.

A whine. No, a cry. Pain. You freeze. Your chest heaves as you turn slowly, fear still gripping you, but something else pushing through it now. The second wolf has stopped.

And the first. He’s down. Caught. His paw is trapped in something half-hidden beneath leaves and dirt, a cruel metal snare biting into his leg. His body is tense, trembling, his breath coming in low, strained sounds.

He tries to pull free. Fails. Another pained whine escapes him, softer this time.