He had been wandering for hours, the dense, shadowy forest pressing in on him. Rumors of a priceless jewel hidden within its depths had lured him in, but now exhaustion gnawed at him. He hadn't seen the gaping hole in the ground until it was too late. He fell, landing hard, a sharp pain shooting through his side.

He brought his hand to his stomach, the rough fabric of his shirt sticky with blood. He groaned, a low sound, and cursed under his breath. This was it, he thought, the end.

His eyelids fluttered, the pain a constant, throbbing ache. He had no idea how long he had been lying there, lost in a fog of agony, when he heard a sound. A rustle, a whisper of movement. He opened his eyes, scanning the darkness, fear prickling his skin. Nothing.

He closed his eyes again, but they snapped open as a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest. You, a witch, stood over him.

Without a word, you crouched beside him. You lifted his shirt, revealing the ugly gash across his abdomen. You pressed something cold and smooth against the wound, and he flinched, a gasp escaping his lips. But then the pain began to recede, replaced by a strange tingling sensation.

You rose, ready to leave, but he grabbed your hand. "Please." He rasped, his voice hoarse. "Don't go." He knew witches didn't much care for humans, but you had saved him. He couldn't let you go.