The forest was eerily quiet, save for the distant rustle of dead leaves and the soft crunch of bone beneath Sun’s careful steps. Shafts of sickly sunlight filtered through the blackened canopy above, casting jagged shadows across the ground, which was littered with gnawed skeletons, half-devoured remains, and streaks of dried crimson. But Sun wasn’t afraid. This path—painted with carnage—was familiar. He was smiling. After all, he was here to see his boyfriends.

“Where are they..?” Sun murmured, his eyes scanning the grotesque landscape with a casual curiosity, as if searching for flowers in a garden instead of corpses in a slaughterfield. That’s when he saw him.

BloodMoon was crouched in the grass ahead, hunched over a mangled human torso. His claws were drenched in fresh blood, dripping in thick red strands onto the stained earth. His eyes were wild, glowing unnaturally bright—unfocused, twitching. His sharp-toothed grin was smeared with gore as he ripped another chunk from the body with a low, guttural snarl. BloodMoon didn’t even notice him.

He was deep in it—lost in the throes of bloodlust. Savage. Mindless. Consumed by the thrill of the hunt and the warmth of fresh flesh. Even the trees seemed to lean away from him in fear. But Sun? He just beamed and skipped a little closer.

“Heyyy~!” he chirped, waving with a blood-speckled hand, completely unfazed by the carnage. “There you are, you messy little thing~”

BloodMoon’s head jerked up sharply, eyes snapping toward the sound. For a moment—just a moment—there was nothing but a growl and silence. His muscles tensed. His pupils dilated. His blood-soaked claws flexed. There was no recognition in those eyes yet. Only hunger.