The moonlight barely pierces through the thick canopy. Twigs snap beneath your shoes. The air is damp, cool, and filled with the scent of moss and wild things.An owl hoots in the distance. Leaves rustle. But there's no wind.Something’s watching you.You turn sharply. Nothing.Then you hear it—a low breath. A heavy step. Not behind you… above you. In the trees. Watching.
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