I fell asleep in front of the campfire after spending some time playing around with the little bird.

Though I laid out a blanket to sleep on, it was still difficult to get a good night's rest in the forest.

It’s like part of your senses remain awake even while you sleep.

Sounds from the night, like distant howls of wolves, drifted by at times.

Most of those animal noises became background lullabies, gently fading into my dreams.

But if there was a hint of danger, my senses would sharpen, and I’d wake up instantly.

Living in the forest makes that kind of instinctive vigilance a habit.

My mother was like that, and so am I.

My father, not at all.

"…."

I carefully rested my hand on the handle of the axe I kept by my side.

I could hear the tiny, soft breaths of the baby bird sleeping next to me—peep, peep.

The crackling of the campfire echoed gently in the night air, while a faint set of footsteps crept closer from behind.

If the night hadn’t been so silent, I wouldn’t have heard it at all.

That’s how quiet it was.

Step by step, I heard the soft crunch of grass growing closer, pausing before advancing again.

Once the sound reached within my arm's reach, I whipped around like lightning, swinging my axe.

Thwack!

The axe struck the ground, and without even a sound, the creature’s neck was severed.

It was a weasel.

It seemed like one of the weasels that had tried to prey on the little bird earlier.

Right beside the dead weasel, there was another one.

Springing to my feet, I flung the axe at the startled weasel as it tried to run.

The second one was cut in half.

I could have let it go, but my mother always taught me: kill any creature that attacks you.

I wiped the blood off my axe and glanced back at the campfire. The baby bird was still asleep, softly peeping away—peep, peep.

"Is that thing really a wild bird?"

Was it just brave, or merely dull-witted?

It was almost absurd.

"Surely it’s not newborn… it’s a wonder it’s survived this long."

Properly handled, weasel fur can make good pelts, but dealing with that in the middle of the night was too much of a hassle. It wasn’t worth it.

Instead, I buried the weasel carcasses and the blood under the dirt to keep other predators from catching their scent. Then, I lay back down in front of the campfire.

‘But… do weasels normally have this much persistence?’

Trying to catch a bird by sneaking into an area where a human was—something about it felt off.

The chick was too small; even if they caught it, it wouldn’t make much of a meal for two of them.

These thoughts lingered, but I let the campfire and the soft sounds of the baby bird lull me back to sleep.

When I woke, the fire was almost out, and the air was chilly.

It seemed like the baby bird had woken long before I did.

It was in a spot a little way off, struggling against an insect.

It looked somewhat like a grasshopper, but not quite the kind I was familiar with.

It was significantly larger, and most notably, its mouth had jagged, saw-like edges.

"…."

Birds are supposed to eat insects, aren’t they?

Baby birds usually get fed by their parents, but they still eat bugs, right?

Yet here was Rella, locked in a fierce struggle with a bug.

And it wasn’t just any struggle; the bird was on the verge of being eaten by the insect.

“Peep! Peep-peep! Peep!”

Oh no, Rella had been bitten by the grasshopper-like creature.

It shrieked in pain, flapping its wings desperately.

It tried to escape, but the bug wouldn’t let go.

It clung to Rella’s body with its legs, its saw-like jaws biting into the bird’s neck.

It looked like it might really end up getting eaten, so I flicked the insect away with my finger.

Once the grasshopper flew off, Rella fearlessly pounced on it.

Though the bug was already dead, Rella jumped on it, clutching it with its talons and pecking at it with its beak.

“Peep-peep-peep! Peep-peep!”

It seemed like a victorious cry.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, little one, I’m the one who killed it, you know.”

“Peep! Peep-peep-peep!”

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Perhaps it thought I would take its prize away. It chirped at me in protest.

“I don’t eat bugs. You go ahead and have as much as you want.”

With that, I stretched out, feeling my muscles loosen.

Rella started pecking at the grasshopper, while I tore into some jerky I had brought from home.

It was the start of another lively day.

Sigh, time to get lost in the forest again.

"…."

But what was I going to do with Rella?

It wasn’t practical to carry a bird in my palm the entire time.

And making a box to carry it wasn’t an option either.

"Hmm."

I thought for a moment and then tried placing Rella on my head.

At first, it flailed, chirping in protest about falling, but eventually, it seemed to take a liking to the height.

After a while, it settled there, though it swayed a bit.

Occasionally, it chirped and pecked at me, which was a bit annoying, but overall, it seemed like it would work.

With the bird perched on my head, I wandered through the forest, occasionally talking to it.

All the while wondering if I’d ever make it out.

Four days later, it was nighttime.

I had lit a campfire and sat quietly by it.

Though I closed my eyes, I wasn’t sleeping.

I couldn’t sleep.

For the past few days, a wolf had been following me.

I wasn’t sure when it had started.

At some point, I became aware of the wolf’s eyes fixed on me.

It didn’t come too close, perhaps recognizing my strength.

‘Is it an older one?’

It didn’t seem to be a young wolf.

It was too cunning for that.

It maintained an elusive distance, just enough to be difficult to catch, all while trying to wear me down.

‘What should I do?’

The forest is always a place that requires vigilance, but even so, I usually let my guard down just a bit.

I wasn’t on edge every single moment.

But with something relentlessly following me, I couldn’t afford to relax.

I had to stay on high alert.

If I let my guard down even a little, I’d get caught.

I was taut with tension, unable to rest.

That old wolf must have known that from experience.

"…."

For the past few nights, Rella had gotten used to perching on my head, but tonight, I set her down by the campfire.

After I realized that the wolf was following me, I hadn’t lain down to sleep.

I just sat there, eyes closed, ready to react at any moment.

But as long as I stayed like that, the wolf didn’t approach.

I needed to show that I was letting my guard down.

That night, I kept pretending to sleep until dawn, but the wolf never attacked.

It just occasionally growled, letting me know it was there, watching from a distance.

‘Cunning beast.’

The next day, I set off again without having gotten proper sleep.

At times, exhaustion overtook me, and I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t let myself sleep deeply.

If I did, I would be eaten by the wolf for sure.

I couldn’t relax my nerves.

Some might say that someone who could take down a bear with an axe shouldn’t fear a mere wolf.

But you have to remember that wolves in this forest aren’t your average wolves.

This is a place people call the Cursed Forest, and ordinary animals don’t live here.

The wolves, bears, even the grasshoppers are at least twice their usual size.

I hadn’t seen them myself, but creatures like the Phoenix and the Basilisk supposedly lived here, so nothing was ordinary.

"…."

Of course, there was also the tiny bird sitting on my head, too small even to catch bugs properly.

That evening, I once again pretended to sleep in front of the campfire, but the wolf still didn’t come close.

But late the following night, when I was so tired that I really did doze off for a moment, the wolf made its move.

The wolf must have thought that my strength had finally given out.

Well, that’s good.

I sprang up, throwing my axe.

The wind rose from my fingertips, enveloping the axe and propelling it forward.

The wolf reacted immediately, but I was faster.

I had waited for this chance for days, and I put more force into it than usual.

The wolf took the axe square in its torso and died on the spot.

I felt lighter.

My body was weary from not having rested properly for days, but my heart felt elated.

Because of that, even after killing the wolf, I couldn’t fall back to sleep.

Just before dawn, with the sky pitch dark and the stars invisible, I looked up and murmured to myself.

“But still… something doesn’t add up. Why did the wolf target me so persistently?”

There were plenty of easier prey for it.

There was no reason for it to spend days without eating, just to chase after me.

“Peep! Peep-peep!”

Rella started chirping noisily as soon as my hand, which had been feeding her, stopped moving.

After I had cut off a piece of wolf meat and fed it to her, she kept demanding more.

She opened her little yellow beak, her mouth as big as her face, chirping insistently.

I had thought baby birds would eat worms or insects, but Rella seemed to prefer meat.

I tore off another tiny piece and handed it to her.

“Peep! Peep-peep-peep-peep!”

She accepted it eagerly.

If I wasn’t careful, she might try to eat my fingers too.

“Eat lots and grow big and strong enough to protect yourself.”

“Peep!”

I doubted she understood, but she chirped every time I spoke, as if she were replying.

It felt like we were having a conversation.

“It’s nice not to feel so lonely with you here.”

I spoke while offering her another piece of meat. Rella snapped at it, almost biting my finger in the process.

When the sun rose, I set off again.

Later that afternoon, I encountered a stream for the first time since my journey began.

I refilled my water supply and took the opportunity to wash my face and hair.

I soaked a cloth and roughly wiped down my body as well.

Sitting on a sun-drenched rock, I let myself dry off, but the exhaustion of the past few days came crashing down all at once.

My eyelids grew heavy, and as I blinked back into focus, my head kept lolling forward.

After several rounds of nodding off and jerking awake, I eventually drifted into a deep sleep.

I woke with a start to Rella’s loud chirping.

“Peep-peep-peep! Peep-peep-peep!”

How could I describe that feeling in that moment?

It was like plunging into ice-cold water.

More than just a chill—it was a numbing sensation that shot down my spine.

Without a moment to think, I grabbed the axe between my legs and swung it high.

A dull impact reverberated through the handle.

Then I heard a deafening roar of pain.

Standing behind me was a massive bear.

Its right arm was missing.

‘Ah, it’s you.’

It was the mother bear—the one that had almost killed me.

Perhaps even while I was at home, maybe from the moment I left, or during my entire journey, this creature had been trailing me just beyond my awareness.

Unable to forget the loss of its cub, it had followed me to take my life.

My axe had buried itself deep into its side, creating a gaping wound.

Blood was gushing out of the torn flesh.

It must have been painful, yet it seemed unfazed.

The mother bear reared up on its hind legs, leaning forward as if to crush me under its massive weight.

Its enormous shadow fell over me, darkening my field of vision.

"I understand that you can’t forget the loss of your cub. But…"

I murmured, swinging the axe upward like a batter.

The axe struck the bear’s chin and continued upward, splitting its jaw in two.

Its face tore apart on either side.

“I also hold a grudge against you. Because of you, it took me fourteen years to be recognized as a warrior.”

Not to mention, its claws had left a long scar on my shoulder.

The Phoenix Feather that my mother had retrieved had healed my wounds and brought me back from death, but it hadn’t erased the scars.

I already looked rough enough, with my muscular build inherited from my mother, but now I was covered in scars, making me look even more intimidating.

My grudge was as deep as the bear’s.

I kicked the bear in the stomach, channeling fourteen years of resentment into the blow.

The mother bear staggered backward, its gaping mouth opening and closing uselessly as it collapsed.

Its huge body flailed on the ground, paws clawing at the air, as if trying to get up.

Despite half its face being torn apart, it refused to die—this bear truly was a monster.

I stepped on its chest and swung my axe down at its neck.

The headless body clawed at the air, seemingly searching for me, before finally falling limp.

“Peep-peep!”

Rella waddled over, pecking at the mother bear’s massive paw.

She repeated the action over and over.

‘What on earth is it doing?’

I crouched down and watched for a moment before muttering.

“Don’t tell me… do you think you killed this bear?”

“Peep-peep-peep! Peep-peep!”

With an air of triumph, she flapped her tiny wings, continuing to peck at the bear’s paw.

It sure seemed like she thought so.

“True, you did warn me and saved my life, but you didn’t kill this bear. That was me.”

Even though I said it, it didn’t get through to Rella.

After pecking at the bear’s paw a few more times, she managed to climb onto the bear’s massive body, only to start pecking it again.

Apparently, she thought the bear was her prize.

What a cheeky little thing.

But is it normal for a bird to believe it’s hunted a bear and celebrate like this?

It seemed that this little chick had not received the proper education from its parents.

Nine days later, I came across a cabin that looked like it was inhabited.

‘Finally!’

It seemed like I had at last made it out of the forest.

Even if I hadn’t, it was alright.

At the very least, I’d be able to find out if I was heading in the right direction toward the city.

I hurried my steps toward the distant cabin.