The forest wasn't silent.
It never was.
But that morning, the sounds seemed delayed.
Damon ran.
Not like a human.
Not like a common predator.
He disappeared.
The ground rose and vanished beneath his feet like an uneven blur of leaves, roots, and damp earth. The wind cut his face with constant pressure, pulling his hair back as the tree trunks transformed into vertical shadows that came toward him too fast.
He dodged.
Instinctive.
A leap.
His body tilting before the thought even finished.
A fallen trunk appeared ahead—he stepped on it at an impossible angle, propelling himself sideways, his hand briefly touching the rough bark of a living tree to shift his axis of movement.
Pure speed.
But it wasn't just running fast.
It was recalibrating the world.
His senses didn't keep up as before. They went further.
