Dylan straightened slowly, muscles tense, senses on high alert. Silence fell again, broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the distance. He didn't move. He was listening.
Then he felt it.
Not the chief. Not yet. But another one. Quieter, lighter… — a scout, maybe. Dylan stepped back slightly, slipping between two mossy trunks, and raised his axe.
Seconds stretched into a heavy minute.
A figure passed. Small. Agile. Too young. And too nervous. It hesitated, turned its head… Dylan struck. Clean. Soundless. He caught the body before it fell and gently pushed it against a tree.
He remained silent, as cold as marble.
His gaze lifted, scanning the branches. He knew it — the other one was coming. The real threat. The silent predator. This wasn't a hunt anymore… it was a duel.
And this time, Dylan wasn't sure he was the hunter.
It was his life or theirs.
He exhaled in a breath barely audible.
"I'm gonna love killing you."
---
