Eugene was lost.

He had been wandering through the woods for what felt like hours, though the fading light and the ache in his legs suggested it had been far longer. The trees loomed taller with every step, their branches knitting together overhead like a canopy of secrets. The forest floor was uneven, littered with roots and damp leaves that muffled his footsteps but amplified his unease.

Every now and then, a bee would buzz past his ear—an errant scout from a hive he could no longer locate. He watched them vanish into the underbrush, their tiny bodies swallowed by the shadows. It was as if the forest itself was absorbing everything familiar, leaving him with only the hum of insects and the rustle of unseen creatures.

He sighed and clutched his beekeeping equipment tighter to his chest. The netted veil hung limp from his helmet, and his gloves were smudged with dirt and sap. The smoker, once warm and fragrant, had long since cooled. It had been his compass, his comfort. Now it was just dead weight.

The air grew cooler, and a breeze whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of moss and something faintly sweet—honeysuckle, maybe, or something more elusive. Eugene paused, straining to listen. The forest had a rhythm, but it was not one he understood.

Then, suddenly, a twig snapped.

He spun around, heart pounding, eyes scanning the thickets behind him. The sound had been sharp, deliberate. Not the careless crunch of a squirrel or the flutter of a bird. Something—or someone—was nearby.

"Hello...?" he called out, his voice trembling slightly. "Is anyone out there?"

Silence.

Then, another sound—softer this time. A rustle, like fabric brushing against bark. Eugene took a cautious step Forward, his boots sinking slightly into the damp earth.

"Please," he said, louder now. "I'm lost. I just need help finding my way back."

The woods remained still, but the feeling of being watched crept over him like ivy. He glanced down at the smoker in his hands, then back into the trees.