Corin ran.
The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a tangle of roots and shadow. Branches clawed at his arms. Stones bit into his feet. The Hollow didn't chase him—it swallowed him, slow and silent.
He didn't know how long he'd been running. His legs burned. His breath came ragged. Hunger gnawed at his stomach like a living thing.
He stumbled, fell, and dragged himself forward.
'Keep going. Just keep going.'
The trees blurred. The air thickened. His thoughts scattered like leaves in wind.
He cried out not loud, not brave. Just a sound, cracked and small, like something breaking inside him.
Then, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, a voice.
Soft. Gentle. A woman's voice.
"It's alright, dear."
Corin froze.
The words drifted through the trees like smoke, warm and impossible. He turned his head, searching, but saw nothing. Just mist. Just silence.
'Who was that?'
He tried to speak, but his lips wouldn't move. The voice faded, leaving only the echo of comfort he hadn't felt in years.
His body gave out.
He collapsed onto the forest floor, curled into himself, and passed into darkness.
————————————————————————————————————————
When he awoke, everything had changed.
He was warm.
The ache in his limbs had dulled. His skin no longer stung. He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the soft light.
He was in a house.
Wooden walls curved like tree trunks. A fire crackled nearby, casting flickers of gold across the floor. The air smelled of herbs and smoke and something older—something wild.
He sat up, groggy and confused.
'Where am I?'
The quilt covering him was thick, stitched with symbols he didn't recognize. Shelves lined the walls jars of dried leaves, bundles of feathers, bones carved with runes.
He wasn't alone.