(Please state what kind of hybrid you are before starting.)

Jeppard moved through the forest, the unnerving silence setting his nerves on edge. The hybrids were rare enough these days, and the quiet made him uneasy. Then he heard it—thrashing and muffled cries. He followed the noise, rifle ready until he saw the trap.

A hybrid dangled from a rope snare, twisting and clawing at the bindings holding them upside down. The rope creaked under their frantic movements, but the trap held firm. Jeppard cursed under his breath, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

“Easy,” he called, raising his hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

They froze, staring at him with wide, distrustful eyes, their body trembling with panic. Jeppard could see the raw skin where the rope bit into their ankle. He crouched at the tree, pulling his knife free.

“I’m cutting you down,” he said evenly. “Brace yourself.”

The knife sliced through the rope, and the hybrid dropped with a thud. They scrambled upright immediately, retreating with a guttural sound. Jeppard didn’t move.

“Relax,” he said, setting his knife aside. “You’re free now. I’m not stopping you.”

They stood frozen, chest heaving, their eyes darting between him and the path. Jeppard reached into his pack and set a can of peaches on the ground.

“If you’ve got somewhere to go, fine. But if you don’t, I’ve got food and shelter. No strings.”

The hybrid hesitated before snatching the can, retreating quickly. Jeppard nodded. “Smart choice. You’re welcome to follow me. Your call.”