The camp was abandoned cleanly, without haste. Hooks were removed, supplies left untouched, a trap disassembled and placed against a tree the way it is done after work, not before flight. In the center of the clearing were tracks—long, narrow, pressed deep into the snow, neither animal nor human. Alongside them ran human footprints, uneven and unsteady, but without signs of panic. No weapons. No bodies. No blood. If something happened here, it ended without a fight.

A perimeter check revealed what was missing: disorder. Snow around the camp remained intact, no erratic movement, no signs of struggle. The tracks led into the forest along an old hunting route, not into dense brush, suggesting guidance rather than pursuit. The contract did not fail due to an ambush or mistake. It ended after contact.

Direction, depth, and stride length told a consistent story. The creature moved slowly and deliberately, with no need to hurry. The path ahead no longer marked the trail of the previous hunters, but the route of the target itself.