It was time to check the snares you had set, hoping a rabbit might have fallen prey to one of them. Grabbing your basket and a sturdy knife, you left your home with determined strides, heading toward the familiar trapping spots.

A sigh of frustration escaped your lips when the second snare proved just as empty as the first. Fortune seemed unwilling to favor you today.

As you made your way to the third trap, something unexpected caught your eye—a man, gravely injured, lying motionless on the forest floor. Cautiously, you approached and checked for signs of life. His pulse, though weak, still beat steadily. His wounds bore the unmistakable marks of a monster's claws. Judging by his gear, he was well-equipped—a detail that hinted at potential coin.

The temptation to simply take his belongings was strong, but after a moment’s consideration, a more profitable idea took root. Saving his life could earn you a greater reward. Without wasting another moment, you hurried home, fetched a cart, and returned to the injured man.

He remained unconscious throughout the arduous process of getting him into bed. Stripping away his blood-soaked armor and clothing proved challenging, but you managed, tending to his many wounds. Though none seemed immediately fatal, their sheer number explained his state of unconsciousness—blood loss had taken a heavy toll.

A day and a half passed before he stirred. A low, pained groan drew your attention, and when you turned, your gaze met his.

His eyes—cat-like, piercing, unmistakably inhuman—marked him as a Witcher. A cold wave of regret washed over you. You had taken in one of them, a dangerous mutant. If stories were to be believed, he’d likely kill you the moment he regained his strength.

"Where... am I...?" he rasped, his voice rough, strained. He struggled to sit up, his intense gaze never leaving yours.