Clara didn't stop running until her lungs prayed for mercy. The cold night air sculpted itself into her throat with every rustle, sharp and cautioning, but she forced her legs to keep moving. The forest was a blur of shadows and silvered branches, the moon slicing strips of light across her path. Leaves slighted her legs, roots snared her shoes, and the earth sounded to cock beneath her as she plunged deeper into the forestland. Behind her, the Hollow had erupted into a storm. Wolves howled — not the creepy, distant kind she'd heard in the city, but the ripping, furious kind that bucketed in her bones. Men cried. The metallic crack of rifles shattered the night. She could hear bodies colliding, teeth snapping, the unmistakable sound of meat and muscle meeting force. The world behind her sounded like it was breaking. Like a war she never donated to, it had eventually set her up. She stumbled over a departed branch, caught herself, and pressed on. Her heart pounded briskly
Last Updated : 2025-12-06
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