Duskwyn HollowThe night was damp, heavy with the scent of moss, fallen leaves, and forgotten things. I was standing there, unmoving, as if the forest had carved me from its own shadows. Shadows clung to my skin, curling around my feet and dancing through my hair, lifted by a wind no human could feel. The moon didn’t bother with my face. It offered only hints — the outline of limbs, the wild fall of hair, the hum of something ancient just beneath the surface. I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe. And still, the forest leaned closer, as if it remembered."Do you still remember me?" My voice barely rose above a breath.A bird stirred high above. A distant howl. The groan of an old branch under its own weight. "Of course you do," I whispered. "You never forget your monsters."This forest, it was the only thing that hadn’t turned away. Not when my claws first tore flesh. Not when my eyes turned the shade of fresh blood. Not even when the blood dried on my skin, and my name was no longer spo
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