- Day 4 -

The morning sun hung low, painting the forest in soft golds and greens. The air was brisk, crisp enough to draw visible breaths, but alive with the subtle promise of warmth as the day progressed. Droplets of dew clung to every surface, glittering like tiny jewels on blades of grass and the edges of leaves. A faint mist clung to the underbrush, curling lazily in the rays of sunlight that pierced through the canopy.

Alice moved through the forest with a grace that belied her strength. Her ears twitched at the faintest sounds—the snap of a distant twig, the rustle of leaves stirred by a curious squirrel. She raised her bow, her posture relaxed but ready. Her eyes narrowed, amber orbs scanning the thicket ahead.

Axel lingered a few paces behind, arms crossed and leaning lightly against the gnarled trunk of an oak. His eyes, sharp and calculating, followed Alice’s every movement. Despite his guarded nature, there was a flicker of intrigue in his gaze—respect, perhaps, for the way she seemed so at home in the wilderness.

A deer stepped gingerly into the clearing ahead, its delicate legs barely making a sound on the soft earth. Alice drew an arrow from her quiver, nocking it with practiced ease. For a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath.

The twang of her bowstring was almost melodic, and the arrow flew true, striking its mark with a dull thud. The deer staggered before collapsing, its life ebbing away in silence. Alice approached the fallen creature, her movements deliberate and reverent. She knelt beside it, running her hand gently over its flank.

“Thank you,” she murmured under her breath, her words barely audible.

Axel watched her from the shadows of the trees, his expression unreadable. When Alice rose and hoisted the deer onto her shoulders, he stepped forward, his boots crunching softly on the forest floor.

“You’ve done this before,” he remarked, his voice low and steady.

Alice turned her head, her ears flicking toward him. A faint smile played on her lips. “Plenty of times. Out here, you either learn how to survive or you don’t.”

Axel nodded, falling into step beside her as they began their trek back to their makeshift camp. His presence was quiet, almost brooding, but Alice didn’t mind the silence. It wasn’t the awkward, tense kind—it felt natural, as if words weren’t necessary.

The two walked in companionable quiet, their footsteps blending with the forest’s ambient melody. Birds called to one another from the canopy, and the occasional scuttle of a small animal punctuated the serene stillness. Though neither said it, they both felt the weight of the moment. Their time together was slipping through their fingers like sand, and both knew it.

Alice glanced sideways at Axel, the flicker of a thought crossing her mind. Make the most of it.

- Later that Night -

The campfire crackled to life, its warmth chasing away the lingering chill of the morning. The smell of roasting venison filled the air, rich and savory, mingling with the earthy scents of moss and woodsmoke. The clearing they had chosen was idyllic—a small patch of sun-dappled grass beside a shallow stream that babbled softly over smooth stones.

Alice crouched by the fire, turning the spit with careful precision. Her tail flicked lazily behind her, a subconscious motion that betrayed her contentment. Axel sat nearby, his back resting against a fallen log. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was distant, fixed on the dancing flames.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Alice teased, breaking the quiet. She turned her head to look at him, her amber eyes bright with amusement.

Axel blinked, as if startled out of a thought. “I talk when there’s something worth saying,” he replied, his tone even.

Alice chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Fair enough. I’ll just have to do the talking for both of us, then.”

She pulled a strip of venison from the spit and handed it to him. Axel hesitated for a moment before taking it, his fingers brushing hers briefly. He bit into the meat, the flavor surprising him. It was tender, seasoned just enough to bring out its natural richness.

“It’s good,” he said, the words almost grudging but sincere.

Alice grinned, wanting to tease Axel with a fake pout. “You sound surprised. What, were the previous meals that I cooked not that good? That’s heartbreaking.”

“Not at all, it's just that this time the food in particular is even more delicious,” Axel admitted, his lips quirking in what might have been the beginning of a smile.

They ate in companionable silence for a while, the fire crackling between them. The warmth of the flames and the shared meal seemed to bridge the gap between their guarded souls.

As Alice finished her portion, she leaned back, propping herself up on her hands. Her gaze wandered to the sky, now a bright expanse of blue dotted with fluffy clouds. “It’s funny,” she said softly.

Axel glanced at her, his expression curious but wary. “What is?”

“This,” she said, gesturing vaguely to their surroundings. “It’s not often you get moments like this. Quiet, peaceful. Makes you wish they’d last a little longer.”

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Axel followed her gaze to the sky, his brow furrowing slightly. “Moments don’t last,” he said after a pause. “That’s why they become precious memories when it's over. And why it's important to enjoy them within the moment.”

Alice turned her head to look at him, her expression thoughtful. “You know, for someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure know how to say something profound.”

Axel scoffs, the corner of his lip threatening to curve upward, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he let the quiet settle over them again, the kind that felt heavy with meaning.

The stream burbled softly in the background, and the fire crackled low as its flames began to dwindle. The weight of their fleeting time together hung unspoken in the air, a gentle reminder that every shared moment was precious.

- Day 5 -

The sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the forest in hues of amber and gold. The path narrowed as Alice led the way, her sharp eyes scanning the surrounding trees. She moved with purpose, her bow held loosely in her left hand, an arrow nocked but not drawn. At her hip, the polished hilt of her sword gleamed faintly in the fading light.

Axel trailed behind her, his steps eerily quiet despite his tall, lanky frame. His gaze shifted between the winding path and the dense underbrush, his expression unreadable. Though he spoke little, Alice had come to sense the way he moved—as if he could feel danger before it revealed itself.

The attack came suddenly.

A branch snapped behind them, sharp and deliberate. Before Alice could turn fully, a massive beast leapt from the undergrowth, its fur bristling and teeth bared. It was a grotesque creature, its long limbs coiled with muscle, and its yellowed eyes locked on her with predatory hunger.

Alice reacted on instinct. She spun around, drawing her sword in one fluid motion. The creature lunged, but she sidestepped its charge, her blade slashing across its flank. The beast let out a guttural snarl, its blood spattering the ground as it wheeled back to face her.

“You picked the wrong target,” Alice muttered, her grip tightening on the hilt.

The beast circled her, its movements low and deliberate, testing her defenses. Alice’s heart pounded, but her breathing was steady. She adjusted her stance, waiting for the next attack.

It came faster than she anticipated. The beast feinted left, then sprang right, its claws aiming for her exposed side. Alice swung her blade, the steel connecting with a satisfying clang, but the force of the creature’s strike threw her off balance. She stumbled, her back hitting a tree, and the beast seized the opening.

Before it could close the gap, Axel moved.

He appeared beside Alice in a blur of motion, his hand latching onto the creature’s outstretched claw with a grip that seemed almost unnatural. The beast snarled, but Axel didn’t flinch. With a sharp twist, he forced the creature to the ground, his other hand striking its jaw with a brutal force that echoed through the clearing.

The creature scrambled to its feet, shaking its head as if stunned. It lunged again, but Axel met it head-on. His movements were precise, almost effortless—each strike delivered with a strength that belied his thin frame. Alice watched, stunned, as he drove the creature back, his expression calm and focused.

Finally, with one last powerful blow, Axel sent the beast sprawling. It landed heavily, its body twitching before going still.

Alice exhaled, pushing herself off the tree. She sheathed her sword and approached Axel, her eyes flicking between him and the fallen beast.

“That was… impressive,” she said, her voice steady but laced with surprise.

Axel wiped his hands on his pants, his pale skin smeared with blood. “It caught you off guard,” he replied simply, his gaze meeting hers.

Alice frowned, her tail flicking in mild frustration. “It won’t happen again.”

“It might,” Axel said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Even the strongest fighters can’t see everything coming.”

Alice tilted her head, studying him. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Axel shrugged, his expression neutral. “So are you.”

The tension eased slightly, and Alice allowed herself a small smile. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Don’t mention it,” Axel replied, his voice quieter. “Let’s move before something else shows up.”

They left the clearing together, their steps in sync. Though the encounter was brief, it left an impression on both of them—a reminder of their differences, but also of how they could rely on each other.

- The last night -

Night fell gently, blanketing the forest in a serene stillness. The crackle of the campfire filled the air, its orange glow casting dancing shadows on the surrounding trees. Alice sat cross-legged near the flames, her sword propped against a nearby rock and her bow resting within arm’s reach.

She stared into the fire, her ears twitching slightly at the distant sounds of the forest. Despite her steady demeanor, the ambush still lingered in her mind. It wasn’t fear, exactly—more of a sharp reminder of how quickly things could change.

Axel sat a few feet away, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. His eyes were half-closed, but Alice knew he wasn’t asleep. He hadn’t spoken much since the attack, but his presence felt steady, grounding in its own way.

Alice let out a quiet breath and began to hum.

The melody came unbidden, soft and tentative at first. It carried a gentle, lilting rhythm, weaving through the night like a thread of warmth. She closed her eyes, her voice growing stronger as the familiar tune filled the quiet.

Axel’s eyes opened fully, his gaze settling on her. He didn’t interrupt, but there was a slight tilt to his head—a silent curiosity.

When Alice finished, she opened her eyes and caught him watching her. She smiled faintly, her tail curling around her legs. “What?”

“What was that?” Axel asked, his voice low but steady.

“A song,” Alice replied. She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the fire. “Something my mom used to hum to me when I was little. It always helped me feel safe.”

Axel nodded, his expression softening. “It’s a lovely melody… It suits you.”

Alice blinked, surprised by the comment. “Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a hint of warmth.

The silence that followed was comfortable, the kind that spoke of an unspoken connection. For the first time since they’d started their journey together, Alice felt like she wasn’t alone.

As the fire burned low, the two sat together under the vast expanse of stars, their thoughts lingering on the fleeting but meaningful bond they had forged.