As we moved deeper into the forest, the confidence I’d felt in the tavern drained with every step. The tall, shadowy trees seemed to lean in, casting long shadows. I didn’t need the gold that badly, and I sure didn’t need to be risking my neck for a stray dog. Yet here I was, helping Phobe locating her pet out in the forest. Death wasn’t the issue—dying stupidly was. I’d prefer not to end up as a cautionary tale, like choking on dinner or getting mauled over a dog… or getting eaten alive by a damn flower.

Suzan suddenly stopped and sank down onto a tree stump, taking a moment to catch her breath. Noticing her pause, I leaned against a nearby tree, crossing my arms. I wasn’t exhausted, but the dull ache in my leg was a reminder of the last close call I’d had in these woods.

“We’re close,” she said, her voice a little winded as she unclipped her dagger. “But… you know, I’ve never actually used this thing.”

I raised a brow. “The dagger?”

She nodded, twisting the hilt thoughtfully. “Yeah. Never needed it before. But now… what if that elf’s still around?”

“Then we turn back. Run if we have to,” I replied simply.

Suzan shook her head, slipping the dagger back into its sheath. “If it weren’t for my dog, I’d be home right now. I swear.”

I shifted, changing the subject. “So… why did you start helping that elf and his sister?”

She paused, scratching her head as she considered. “They looked weak, vulnerable. I felt sorry for them, so I started sharing food, blankets… But then, when I saw them taking the dogs… I had to stop. I didn’t realize they’d do that.”

“Are elves really as bad as everyone says?” I asked, watching her expression shift.

Her face darkened. “From what I saw… yes. They’re monsters, plain and simple. I was stupid, thinking they could be different.”

I grunted, glancing up at the fading sunlight. “We should keep moving. Sun’s setting.”

She followed my gaze, nodding. “Right. Last thing we need is to get caught out here after dark.”

We continued down the trail, nature’s noises around us shifting with the dimming light. I’d never been fond of the outdoors, maybe because I’d grown up surrounded by the concrete jungle, skyscrapers boxing me in on all four. My mom used to take me out for school picnics when I was a kid, back when she was still… herself, not hooked on drugs. She’d constantly warn me about bugs and plants, like they were lurking dangers out to get me. ‘One bite could kill you,’ or ‘This plant can paralyse you.’ Maybe that’s where it started—my unease around nature, born from her paranoia.

I wondered if I’d feel differently if I’d grown up without her fears pressing into me, but I pushed the thought aside before it could drag me further down.

Suzan brushed off her clothes as she got up, looking at me thoughtfully. “Hey,” she asked, out of the blue, “if you died… would anyone care? Like, would anyone really mourn you?”

“Hmm?”

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She shrugged, hands in her pockets as we resumed walking. “I ask myself that a lot. For me… it’s just my mom. She’d be heartbroken, but that’s it. My friends? They’d move on. They all have other people to lean on… Sometimes I feel like I’m just alone.”

“My mother would’ve cared,” I answered, not meeting her eyes.

“Was she a good mom?” she asked, stepping around a fallen branch. “Mine is.”

I paused, choosing my words carefully. “She wasn’t perfect. Better than nothing, I guess.”

Suzan glanced over. “When you said she was gone… you didn’t sound too upset. Didn’t it hit you hard? I’d be lost if anything happened to my mom.”

“I was upset,” I replied, more to myself than her. “But time helps. I learned that.”

She stepped over a log, shaking her head. “Time… that’s fine for people who have it. What about those who don’t?”

“Who doesn’t have time?” I asked, stepping over the same log.

“Me, maybe? I’m tied up at that tavern almost every hour of every day. I’m so busy I barely have time to scratch my ass.”

“Hmm.”

Suzan snorted. “Not the chatty type, huh?”

I kept my face neutral, shrugging slightly. “We had this conversation already.”

“Right.” She said, smiling. “You are so boring.”

“Hmm.”

══════✦══════

Suzan parted the tall grasses, revealing a small, weathered cabin tucked within the trees and surrounded by vibrant flowers. The place seemed quiet—no sign of elves or danger. Just Suzan and I, crouched low in the grass, studying the scene like some kind of amateur spies. I’d never imagined myself sneaking around like this; this world was really pulling me out of my comfort zone.

She glanced back at me, worry etched on her face, hesitation flickering in her eyes. Her expression mirrored my own thoughts—we could still turn back. If that elf was inside, we’d be in serious trouble.

“Should we… go back?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes scanning the cabin nervously.

I shrugged, voice low. “Up to you.”

After a moment’s pause, she steeled herself. “No… we came this far. We can do it. I bet the elves aren’t even in there. We’ll just get in, grab the dogs, and go… if they’re still alive.”

I gave her a nod, feeling a bit more determined. “Alright.”

With her hand wrapped tightly around her dagger, she took a deep breath. “Just in case,” she muttered, holding it like a lifeline.

I clenched my fists, trying to steady the tremor in my hands as we crept closer to the cabin, every step making my heart race faster. My fingers hovered near the dagger the Queen had given me, my focus narrowing to the cabin ahead while everything else faded into the background.

We finally emerged from the grasses and flattened ourselves against the cabin’s weathered wood. Inside, I could make out faint whimpering sounds—dogs, hopefully—but otherwise, the place seemed deserted.

Suddenly, Suzan’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, barely stifling a gasp. I hadn’t expected her touch, especially in my agitated state. My heart did a nosedive.

She gave me a concerned look. “Your face doesn’t show it, but you’re trembling,” she whispered, her voice softer than before. “You can stay back if you want. Let me handle it.”

I took a shaky breath. “No, I’m… I’m alright.”

Her eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “You sure? You’re practically sweating like a bull.”

“Forget about me,” I replied, shaking my head to clear it. “Let’s just get this over with and head back to the city.”

She offered a faint smile and gave my shoulder a quick pat. “Alright. We’ve got this.”