i watched the group of men, mostly i watched Bronlo.

  After he was dohinking stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. “Anir,” he said, his tone measured, “those that where here while we where hunting told us what happened, but how did you know? That child was almost taken, but you… you acted as if you’d seen it all along.”

  I met his gaze, f myself to hold steady. “I could se,” I replied, keeping my tone calm and steady. “I was standing at the edge of the forest walking home far from that things magid in my aura the air felt… wrong. I followed my instincts.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “Instincts. Maybe that’s a skill we’ll all need soon, if creatures like this are going to keep ing.”

  Bronlo’s eyes flicked to the hunters, eae gripping their spears tighter as they exged uneasy ghe tension was a living thing, weaving through the crowd. My mother’s hand tightened on my shoulder, her fingers digging in, a silent reminder of my pce, of the careful steps I’d have to take now that the tribe’s attention was on me.

  The father of the child I saved approached, his face etched with a mixture of awe and gratitude. “You saved my boy’s life, Anir,You risked yourself for my son.” he said, aended his hand. His voice trembling slightly. “For that, my family is in your debt. Whatever you need, you need only ask.”

  I shook his hand, keeping my expression calm, letting a slight smile show as I spoke. “It was what had to be done.” allowing a slight, fident smile. “There’s between us. Proteg the tribe is everyone’s duty.”

  From behind him, others stepped forward, murmuring words of gratitude, admiration. Even the women, who’d been huddled close earlier, gnced my way with a nereciation.

  Then we all heard the low voice of Ilyana, shes young healer, murmuring to aribe member. “If something like that got so close,” she said, her voice tinged with worry, “it won’t be the st. Spirits don’t just wahey have purpose.”

  Her words lingered, spreading a palpable tension that rippled through the others. Bronlo’s frown deepened, and he raised his voice, addressing the group.

  “Tonight, we double the guard, and smoke.” he ordered, his voice steady but wary. “If one creature found its way here, more may follow and as for the day maybe we should use some of the smoke. We’ll be ready.”

  A murmur of assehrough the tribe, but the faces around me held a mixture of fear and uainty. They gnced from the stain on the wall to the cave entrand childreo me, as if w if I could save there kids the ime those things e. Let them think it. The more they believed I he stronger my position here would bee.

  Bronlo turned bae, his gaze sharp. “Whatever sense you have for these creatures, I hope it stays with you, Anir. We may have need of it.”

  “I’ll do what I to keep the tribe safe,” I replied, my voice even but with just enough weight to suggest that I uood more than I was saying. The aura of mystery suited me; it gave them reason to trust me, ahe outside.

  As Bronlo and the hunters moved away, discussing pns for the night watch, I felt my mother’s hand on my shoulder tighten once more. I turo look at her, catg the flicker of worry in her eyes.

  “Anir,” she said quietly, her voice ced with . “Be careful. Not everyone is happy with your raise today.”

  I nodded, uanding her warning. “It’s the way of things, Mother. For oo rise other's must fall. Not everyone will uand. And not everyone wants to.”

  She sighed, brushing her fingers over my forehead, her face softening. “Be mindful, son. The wolves among us are just as dangerous as the ones in the forest.”

  I smirked, nodding in agreement. Let them e. Wolves know only the hunt. But I know the game.

  When the crowd finally dispersed, I could still feel the weight of the tribe’s wary gnces lingering ohis was no ordinary hunt, no simple victory; this was something deeper, something that ged things. The stain from the geling remained on the wall he entrance, a dark smear that seemed to throb faintly, like a wound that wouldn’t close. It was a reminder—a mark that something a, something hostile, had dared to cross into our space.

  Bronlo and the hunters lingered he fire, their voices low, faces etched with shadows as they discussed the day’s events. The older men’s faces were stony, with tension i of their jaws, while the younger hunters watched with awe and fear. They knew, as I did, that the geling wasn’t just a creature; it was a message.

  I kept my expression carefully ral, listening to the fragmented pieces of versation drifting my way.

  “Attag in daylight,” Bronlo muttered, his voice edged with anger. “The boundaries mean nothing to these creatures anymore.” His eyes fshed in my dire, audied me as if seeing me for the first time. “They’re getting bolder.”

  One of the hunters, a broad-shouldered man arek, nodded, his expression uneasy. “It’s almost like they’re… watg us. Testing us.”

  I caught Bronlo’s gaze, holding it steady. “If it’s a test, they got their answer,” I said, keeping my tone calm but firm. “They know we’re not defenseless.”

  The fai flicker of approval passed through Bronlo’s eyes before he turned his attention back to the hunters. “Tonight, we double the watch. I don’t want another creature slipping past our eyes,” he said, his voice filled with the weight of and.

  My status here just ged. I could feel it, in every gnd whispered word. This wasn’t just a small feat—they saw me as something more now. Strong, protective, perhaps even a bit mysterious. The kind of person who saw danger before it struck, the kind of person who acted.

  Behind me, I heard the hushed voices of the women, their rippling through the air in quiet murmurs. I caught my maze, her fareadable but her eyes sharp as they studied me, as if trying to piece together something she couldn’t quite uand.

  When I went to get some water in our home. She finally approached, her haing on my shoulder.

  “Anir,” she said softly, her voice ced with a mix of pride and worry. “The tribe is watg. You’ve gained respect today—but you must be careful. Not everyone will uand… or approve of you taking the torch from them.”

  I nodded, sensing the tension in her grip. “I know, Mother.” I let a slight smile py on my lips. “Respect is only as strong as what’s behind it. If I keep showing them what I do, they’ll have little reason to fight me.”

  But as I gnced back at the hunters, their serious faces still illuminated by the firelight, I felt a subtle shift in the air—a growing sehat my as had carved a path I couldn’t easily step back from. The geling’s arrival had stirred something withiribe, a fear that lingered like a shadow, attag itself to me. I could see it in their guarded gnces, hear it in their hushed voices.

  As night desded, the fire cast long, flickering shadows against the cave walls. Each silhouette felt darker, more ominous, as if the forest itself had shifted, growing hungrier, closer. I khe tribe would sleep uneasily tonight, their dreams haunted by thoughts of gelings slipping past uard, lurking at the edges of our safety, repg our children.

  With a final look at the dark stain on the wall, I let the whispers wash over me, noting each look, each word. Fear was useful. Let them be uneasy. Let them watch as I rise. Let them wonder just how much I uood, and how much more I might know.

  Tonight, the geling had been driven out, but its shadow still lingered. And if the creatures of the forest were testing us, then I’d be ready to answer.I allowed myself to think about what this geling really meant. A creature like that—slipping in unnoticed, blending with us until it found a ce to repe of our own—was a new danger. And if there was ohere could be others.

  I focused my mana-vision, stretg it out, my aura searg for any hidden energies, I looked slowly for any sign of a faerie trying to mask itself. One by one, I checked the tribe members, carefully looking for any hidden auras that didn’t belong.

  I see now why my grandfather killed all the fay in his genocidal wars, if I get the ce, I am going to do the same, So where are you?.

  Tonight, I’ll be sure. I’ll be thh. cheg every fao more surprises. No more fuck-ups.