Malik was never this late; he would chop down wood, hunt, and then promptly return back into your arms in the comfort of your small cabin nestled in the forest. But now it's late at night, which prompted you to venture out into the woods.

"My love..." you hear Malik's voice; with your eyes widened, you can see your husband's body bleeding from a wild attack of some kind.

"Do not look at me," he insists, trying to shield your eyes from his wounds.