Zelene blinked the blur from her eyes. The sunlight through the cracks of the wall was brighter now — late morning, maybe. Her body ached, but not in the burning way it did before; the pain was dull, wrapped, tended to.
Her gaze shifted back to the blond-haired man who had been kneeling beside her. He had already stood and was quietly wringing out the blood-stained cloth into the basin again, calm and methodical.
Zelene pushed her palms against the bed, trying to lift herself. Her arms trembled.
The world swayed.
The man turned quickly.
"You shouldn't—"
"I need to know," she rasped, her breath uneven, "where… are we?"
He hesitated, the water dripping softly from the cloth in his hand.
"You're far from the road," he said finally. "The fall carried you down into the forest's lower ridge. I found you by the riverbank. Both of you."
"The fall…" Zelene echoed, her eyes briefly flickering toward Ray's unconscious form. The memory came back in sharp bursts — the cliff's edge crumbling, the scream swallowed by wind, the shock of cold water below.
Her throat tightened.
"Then… we're alive."
A small, almost imperceptible smile touched the man's lips — gone in an instant.
"Barely," he said.
Zelene looked at him again, really looked this time. The gentleness in his hands, the quiet strength in the way he spoke — but still, his eyes remained hidden behind that untamed curtain of blond hair.
"Who are you?" she asked softly.
He seemed to consider his answer for a moment, as though the name itself was something heavy. Then, finally, he said,
"…Elias."
Just that.
No title. No family name. No explanation.
Zelene nodded faintly, as though her body had accepted it before her mind could. She tried again to rise, but her legs trembled under her. Elias moved forward in an instant, steadying her with a firm but careful hand under her arm.
"Slowly," he murmured.
She glanced at him — the warmth of his hand, the way he avoided meeting her gaze — and nodded.
Together, they reached the door. Elias pushed it open, and the light spilled in — a golden wash of forest sun.
The world outside greeted her with birdsong and the whisper of leaves.
Tall trees surrounded the small cabin, their canopies swaying gently in the breeze. The air was cool, filled with the scent of moss and wet bark. A small stream trickled nearby, glinting under the sun like a silver ribbon.
For a moment, Zelene forgot to breathe.
It was so quiet… almost too quiet.
Then —
"Hey!"
A voice broke through the calm. Sharp. High-pitched. Not quite a woman's, but light enough to almost fool her.
Zelene turned.
A figure stood a few steps away, half-hidden behind a tree. He looked young — perhaps her age, maybe a little younger — with messy dark hair that fell into his eyes and a perpetual scowl that didn't quite reach the rest of his face. His clothes were rough and patched, yet clean, and his posture was somewhere between annoyance and caution.
The way he crossed his arms screamed irritation, but there was a flicker — a subtle, quickly-buried concern — when his gaze fell on her bandaged arm.
"She shouldn't be walking around," he said sharply, looking past her at Elias. "She's half-dead and you're just letting her—"
"Easy," Elias interrupted, voice calm as ever. "She wanted to see for herself."
The boy huffed, turning his face away. "Tch. Fine. Not my problem if she collapses."
Zelene blinked at him, unsure whether to feel insulted or oddly amused. There was something about the way he said it — the bite in his tone didn't quite match the way his hand twitched, as if he almost wanted to help but couldn't bring himself to.
Elias, meanwhile, only sighed softly, the faintest hint of a knowing smile touching his lips.
The forest wind carried the quiet tension between them — a strange trio bound by chance, standing beneath the watchful eyes of the trees.