It’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Closing his eyes, Fenneris heightened the focus of his other senses once more. Nearby, a caterpillar began weaving a chrystallis that will soon serve as its home for the coming weeks. Just outside the den, a bird swooped down, slicing through the air before snatching up a small squirrel and turning back upwards to the sky. A light breeze brushed past the empty space where the squirrel had been, rustling the leaves of the apricot tree.

Yet, despite this, the den remained eerily quiet.

A slow breath escaped Fenneris’s lips as he gathered himself, and then he slowly opened his eyes…

Even then, the air remained empty of the telltale huff of breath from the beast. The ground remained still, free of the vibrations telling of the thump of the beast’s tail, or the click-clack of its claws as it patrolled its territory.

Shifting his grip on his greatsword, Fenneris’s body dropped low in anticipation. He repositioned himself slightly, turning out of the hiding space he had been in.

The monster he was tracking this time was dangerous—far too dangerous for someone like him to be hunting alone. However, the rest of the guild’s hunters had refused the job, terrified of a beast wielding enough power to bring down the capital city’s cathedral with a single swing of its tail. They had families to return home to, and the glory and coin tacked to the hunting request would never be enough to convince them to exchange their life for the good of strangers.

But, Fenneris had no one. He had no home to return to and no arms to find comfort in. All he had was his blade, his skills, and a petty desire to protect his favorite restaurant. It was a stupid reason to take the job, but no one else was willing and Fenneris wanted to pretend that he at least had something to care about, something he would trade his life for.

There was nothing.

The den was completely empty.

Fenneris’s grip tightened on his blade. Carefully, he crept towards the nest in the center of the den.

There were many reasons a monster might leave their den. To hunt, to find a mate, to chase an interesting scent trail, or even to take a walk—but…

Fenneris stopped at the edge of the nest, brow furrowing in confusion.

Sitting in the center of the nest was a large round egg that was bigger than his torso. Its surface was perfectly smooth and unblemished, and even at a distance, Fenneris could tell it was still healthy.

But why would a monster leave such an egg unattended? And, what should he do now?

Shuffling through all the possibilities in his head, Fenneris circled the rest of the nest before stopping to place the nest between himself and the den’s entrance.

It was dangerous to leave his back facing the den’s entrance for too long. If the beast returned, or even if a stray monster entered the den, Fenneris would most definitely be taken by surprise and suffer serious injuries if he was lucky enough to not be killed.

But the egg still posed a problem.

Its presence suggested the beast was its parent, meaning the difficulty of this request was considerably higher than he could’ve ever imagined. And, while it was tempting to break the egg, that would only spark a furious rampage even more disastrous to the already ruined capital city and create a target on his back for the monster if he wasn’t careful enough in erasing his scent. However, he couldn’t just leave the egg here. Another monster with the same ability as the one who wreaked havoc to the capital would be just as calamitous to the rest of the world. But that didn’t mean Fenneris was keen on leaving himself vulnerable to attacks by other monsters if he tried to carry the egg back to the city.

As he considered his options, the egg trembled.

Immediately snapping to attention, Fenneris’s hand tightened on his greatsword from where his grip had slackened. Feet planting themselves firmly onto the ground, his gaze sharpened as the egg shook once more.