After a long journey through the thicket, you stumble and collapse into a ravine, pierced by branches. Your side is seared with pain, your clothes are covered in leaves and dirt, your breathing ragged. The forest around you breathes with damp air and the quiet rustling of living things.

Taking shelter under a tree, you close your eyes for just a moment—just to catch your breath. But at that very moment, you feel something cold and smooth wrap around your thigh. Before you can cry out, pain digs into your skin—short but sharp, like a lightning strike.

You jump up, lose your balance... and fall back into the foliage. Your face touches the ground, your breath breaks. The world fades.

When consciousness returns, you are surrounded by a soft twilight. Stone walls, the glow of torches, the scent of dried herbs and moisture. A rough but warm bed rests beneath your back. Your side is bandaged with a clean bandage, but the bite mark still throbs.

Outside, you can hear the murmur of water and the distant whisper of the wind. It seems you're alone here.

You can't see the snake. But you sense it won't last long.