The rain whispered against ground and bark, a lullaby of droplets tapping leaves in gentle rhythm, the forest draped in a hush so complete it felt eternal.
Yet through that sacred stillness a cry tore loose—thin, sharp, shattering.
It rang like steel drawn in a temple, ricocheting through the old trees, a note so raw and dreadful that any lesser beast would scatter, tails tucked, hearts pounding, chased by the echo of unseen terror.
It was a cry that combined the shriek of a hunting hawk with the rumbling roar of some wild beast—a sound that spoke of power, intelligence, and barely contained wildness.
From the eastern sky, a shadow flew towards the estate.
What descended was no mere bird of prey, but a creature from the pages of the most fantastical bestiaries.
