Doc jolted awake, heart racing, as phantom roots still seemed to coil around his limbs. In his dream, twisted trees with gnarled faces had dragged him deeper into the forest, their bark-covered maws opening to reveal rows of wooden teeth. He'd struggled against their pull until the moment of waking.

  "Great," he muttered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "The day of the lumber expedition, and that's the dream I get."

  "Disturbed sleep patterns are common when facing potentially stressful situations," Lux responded through their neural link. "Your dream likely represents anxiety about today's mission."

  Doc sat up on his bedroll, stretching his body and muscles. "You think it's a bad sign? Trees eating me right before we go cut some down?"

  "Dreams have no capacity to affect reality," Lux stated matter-of-factly. "They're simply your subconscious processing information from your surroundings. In this case, the combination of entering an unknown forest environment coupled with the recent information about sentient plant life has manifested as—"

  A soft whoosh interrupted Lux's explanation as Fish materialized inside the tent. One moment there was empty space, the next a massive wolf stood there, shaking morning dew from her midnight coat.

  "Well, hello to you too," Doc said, momentarily forgetting his unsettling dream.

  Fish approached, and Doc was struck again by her transformation. She'd grown from a skittish pup to a formidable predator that stood nearly shoulder-high. Her black fur rippled with subtle violet patterns that shifted like oil on water, and her amber eyes held an intelligence that sometimes made Doc wonder exactly how much she understood.

  "You're getting too big for this tent," Doc observed as Fish pressed her head against his hand, seeking affection. He obliged, scratching behind her ears where the fur was softest. "Pretty soon you'll be sleeping outside whether you want to or not."

  Fish made a low sound in her throat that somehow conveyed disagreement.

  "Fine, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Doc conceded, then returned his attention to Lux. "Run a systems check, would you? We're heading back into the forest today, and I need everything operational."

  "Running diagnostics," Lux replied. "Explorer suit integrity at 97%. MANTIS gauntlet fully functional. Power reserves at 92%. Weapon systems operational. Neural-adaptive integration functioning within optimal parameters."

  "Any concerns about today's mission?" Doc asked, pulling on his boots while Fish watched with curious eyes.

  "The forest contains numerous biological and potentially magical hazards. However, with proper caution and the assistance of local guides who understand which trees are safe to harvest, risk levels are within acceptable parameters."

  Doc nodded, reaching for his pack. "Let's hope those lumberjack brothers know what they're doing. The last thing we need is to anger some sentient tree collective."

  Fish tilted her head, as if considering the notion.

  "Don't worry," Doc told her, patting her flank. "If anything goes wrong, you can just teleport us out of there."

  Fish's tail swished once, neither confirming nor denying this capability.

  Doc checked his equipment one final time, trying to shake off the lingering unease from his dream. "Alright, let's go find some non-sentient, non-carnivorous trees to cut down."

  Doc stepped out of his tent into the early morning light, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted. Fish padded silently beside him, her presence drawing a few admiring glances from those already awake around the camp.

  "Morning," called a familiar voice. Kesh stood nearby, checking the edge on his hunting knife. Beside him was Tanna, the beast tamer, her canine ears twitching slightly as she noticed Fish's approach. A third man Doc didn't recognize stood with them—broad-shouldered with big hands and a steady gaze.

  "What are you all up to this early?" Doc asked, approaching the trio.

  Kesh sheathed his knife. "I'll be joining your logging expedition. The Vale has plenty of predators that would love nothing more than to catch us with our guard down."

  "And I thought my skills might help keep the wilder beasts at bay," Tanna added, her eyes drifting to Fish with professional interest. "They tend to sense when I'm nearby. Keeps them calmer, less likely to attack without provocation."

  Doc nodded, then turned his attention to the unfamiliar man.

  The stranger extended a hand, a small cloud of dust puffing from his sleeve. "Name's Bran. We haven't properly met, but I've heard nothing but good things."

  Doc shook the offered hand, noting the firm grip and calloused palm. There was something immediately likable about Bran—a steady, reliable presence that reminded Doc of his old friend Soren back at the academy. Not the brightest star in the research department, nor the strongest in the field, but absolutely dependable when it mattered.

  "Good to meet you, Bran. I'm Doc."

  "The miller," Bran added with a nod. "Before all this, anyway. Now I'm just trying to keep everyone fed with what we've got."

  "Is Carl joining us?" Doc asked, looking around for the small engineer. "His inventory ability could be useful."

  Kesh shook his head. "We considered it, but his pocket dimension has limits. The weight of fresh-cut logs would exceed what he can safely store. Besides, we need his skills here repairing the east wall."

  "Then how are we transporting the lumber back?" Doc frowned, calculating the effort required to manually drag logs through monster-infested forest.

  Bran's face brightened. "That's where my contribution comes in. Thanks to those tools you and Carl fixed up, Brenn was able to restore an old wagon I found in the back of the fort. Nothing fancy, but the wheels turn and the axle's solid."

  Doc's mind immediately raced ahead. "A wagon could be useful beyond just today's mission. If we manage to get enough lumber for repairs, we could also use it to transport the elderly and children when we finally make our escape from—"

  His planning was interrupted by the sound of running footsteps. Calen jogged up to the group, slightly out of breath, his oversized boots kicking up dust.

  "What's he doing here?" Doc asked, unable to hide his surprise.

  "Another set of eyes," Kesh explained. "Calen knows these woods better than most of us. His scouting skills will help us find the right path and avoid trouble. The more scouts we have, the better our chances."

  Doc studied the young bandit's face, noting the nervous determination there. After a moment, he nodded. "Makes sense."

  "We should get moving," Tanna suggested, glancing at the rising sun. "Brenn's and Tor are waiting with the wagon by the gate."

  "Lead the way," Doc said, checking that his plasma pistol was secure at his hip.

  The group walked toward the fort's entrance where Brenn and Tor stood beside a weather-beaten wagon. The craftsman was making final adjustments to a harness, his movements precise and practiced. Fish trotted alongside Doc, occasionally disappearing in a flicker of shadow only to reappear a few paces ahead, as if scouting their path through the camp.

  Doc approached the wagon where the brothers stood, Tor running his hand along a freshly repaired axe handle while Brenn tightened the last straps on the harness.

  "Morning," Doc greeted them. "Wagon looks solid."

  Tor nodded, his broad shoulders squared with quiet confidence. "My Cleaving Momentum skill should point us to the right trees. With these repaired axes, I'll make short work of whatever we find." He hefted the axe, testing its balance with practiced ease. "Been too long since I had proper tools in hand."

  Brenn stepped back from the wagon, wiping his hands on a cloth tucked into his belt. "I won't be joining you all. Now that we have decent tools, I can help Carl and Dulric with repairs around camp." He ran his fingers along the wagon's frame. "Just wanted to make sure this old girl was ready for the journey."

  Doc walked around the wagon, examining its construction while silently asking Lux to analyze the vehicle.

  "Scanning wagon structure," Lux responded through their neural link. "Primary wooden components show significant weathering and age-related stress patterns. However, recent repairs to the axle, wheel hubs, and support braces appear sound. The vehicle should adequately support the timber load you intend to transport, though I wouldn't recommend testing its maximum capacity."

  "Anything we need to fix before heading out?" Doc asked quietly.

  "Nothing critical. Ideally, the wagon bed planks would be replaced entirely, but the reinforcements applied should suffice for your immediate needs."

  Doc nodded, satisfied with the assessment. "Looks good to me. Your brother does quality work."

  Tor's mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. "He always has. Makes me look like a brute with an axe."

  "Different skills, same family," Brenn replied with the ease of an old, familiar exchange.

  Movement at the edge of Doc's vision caught his attention. Mazoga and Carl were approaching, the latter dressed in an outfit Doc hadn't seen before. The small engineer wore a fitted vest and leggings crafted from dark material that seemed to absorb rather than reflect the morning light.

  "That's new," Doc commented, gesturing to Carl's outfit. "Looks professional."

  Carl adjusted his glasses, a hint of pride breaking through his usual nervousness. "Dulric made it from the panther leather we brought back. Said something about not wasting good materials on someone who'd just tear holes in regular cloth."

  Doc noticed how the leather had been carefully tailored to Carl's small frame, with extra pockets and tool loops integrated into the design. "It suits you. Practical too, I imagine."

  "Very," Carl agreed, still seeming shy about his role in the panther kill, despite the tangible reminder he now wore.

  Mazoga approached the wagon, her critical gaze sweeping over their preparations. "Everyone clear on the plan? Get in, find suitable trees, cut what we need, and get back before dark. No heroics, no detours."

  "We've got Kesh and Tanna for tracking, Calen for scouting, and Tor for the actual lumberjacking," Doc summarized. "Fish and I will provide additional security, and Bran will help with the heavy lifting. Seems straightforward enough."

  "Straightforward until it isn't," Mazoga muttered. "That's how it always goes in the Vale."

  Fish materialized beside the wagon, startling Bran who hadn't noticed her approach. The wolf sniffed at the wooden wheels, then looked up at Doc expectantly.

  "I think she's ready to go," Doc translated.

  Tor climbed onto the wagon's bench, taking the reins of the two sturdy horses they'd repurposed from the bandits' stable. "Daylight's wasting. Let's move out."

  The others arranged themselves around the wagon—Kesh and Tanna taking point, Calen flanking one side while Fish prowled the other. Doc and Bran fell in behind as the wagon began to creak forward toward the fort gates.

  "Good luck," Carl called after them. "Try not to anger any sentient trees!"

  Doc thought of his morning dream and suppressed a grimace. "We'll do our best."

  The wagon rolled through the gates and onto the narrow trail leading into the Hollow Vale, leaving the relative safety of the fort behind.

  Tanna kept her senses alert as they ventured deeper into the Hollow Vale. Her canine ears twitched at every sound—the crack of a twig, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of something that wasn't quite a bird. The forest here didn't welcome visitors; it tolerated them at best, hunted them at worst.

  Her gaze drifted to Fish, the massive wolf padding silently alongside Doc. The bond between them fascinated her professionally and personally. In all her years as a beast tamer, she'd never witnessed anything quite like it.

  Her mind wandered back to those first tense days at the fort, when Doc lay unconscious after the battle with the bandit leader. Fish had stood vigil, a constant shadow over Doc's still form.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Tanna had approached cautiously that first night, drawn by curiosity about the strange wolf pup with deep charcoaled fur. She'd extended her Beastmurmur aura, hoping to soothe the creature enough to examine it.

  The pup's head had snapped up instantly, amber eyes locking onto her. A low, rumbling growl emerged from its throat—not the warning of a frightened animal, but something deliberate and controlled. The message was unmistakable: Come no closer.

  "Easy now," Tanna had whispered, crouching to appear less threatening. "I just want to help."

  The wolf's hackles rose. It positioned itself more firmly between her and Doc's unconscious form, its small body somehow expanding to create a more imposing barrier.

  "That's some loyalty," Mazoga had commented from behind her. "Been like that since he passed out"

  Tanna had tried again, reaching deeper into her Beast Tamer abilities, but something unexpected happened. Instead of responding to her calming influence, the wolf pup had pushed back—not physically, but with a strange energy that felt like static across Tanna's skin.

  She'd withdrawn, both impressed and unnerved. "This isn't just any bonded creature," she'd told Mazoga. "There's something... different about this connection."

  Now, watching Fish move through the forest with silent grace, Tanna's professional assessment had only deepened. The wolf's recent transformation had confirmed her suspicions—this was no ordinary beast bond.

  Most companions required years of training to achieve even basic coordination with their tamers. Fish moved as if connected to Doc's thoughts, anticipating rather than following his commands. And that phase-shifting ability—Tanna had only read about such things in ancient bestiaries.

  She'd tried scanning Doc several times, hoping to understand what class could form such a powerful bond, but her skill always slid off him like water from oiled leather. Carl clearly knew more than he let on, but he guarded Doc's secrets fiercely despite her questioning.

  Fish's ears flicked in her direction, as if the wolf had heard and understood her speculation. Those intelligent amber eyes held Tanna's gaze for a moment before turning away.

  Tanna couldn't help but wonder what might have been possible if she'd formed a familiar bond with such a creature. The thought both thrilled and unsettled her. Such bonds, with powerful creatures like Fish, were rare and dangerous—many died in the attempt—but the results could be extraordinary.

  "Halt!" Tor's voice broke through her thoughts.

  The wagon creaked to a stop as Tor pointed to a massive tree with silvery bark that caught the filtered sunlight. "This one," he declared. "Good timber, and more importantly, not one of the thinking kind."

  Doc nodded in agreement. "How can you tell?"

  "Bark pattern," Tor explained, running his hand along the trunk. "The sentient ones have whorls that look almost like faces if you know what to look for. This one's clean."

  "Let's get to work then," Bran said, already unloading ropes and wedges from the wagon.

  "We should secure the perimeter," Doc suggested, glancing at Kesh and Calen. "Cutting will make noise, and noise attracts attention in this forest."

  Tanna nodded, stepping away from the group. "I'll take the eastern approach. My Beastmurmur should give us some warning if anything gets curious."

  As the others spread out to form a protective circle, Tanna watched Fish disappear into the underbrush with a subtle ripple of shadow—there one moment, gone the next. The wolf's evolution had granted her more than size; it had given her a predator's perfect stealth.

  "Remarkable," Tanna whispered, feeling another twinge of professional envy as she took her position among the trees.

  Tanna sat with her back against a moss-covered boulder, eyes scanning the forest edge. She kept her breathing slow and measured, allowing her Beastmurmur to extend outward like invisible ripples on still water. The forest responded to her presence—subtle shifts in the underbrush as small creatures acknowledged her territory, birds adjusting their flight paths overhead.

  This was her element. Where others saw chaos and danger in the Hollow Vale, Tanna read patterns and warnings. The forest spoke if you knew how to listen.

  The sound of Tor's axe striking wood created a steady rhythm behind her. Each impact sent vibrations through the ground that she could feel through her boots. Bran's occasional grunts as he moved cut timber followed a different cadence. Together, they formed a working song that marked the passing minutes.

  Footsteps approached from behind—heavier than Calen's, more deliberate than Kesh's. She recognized Doc's gait before she turned.

  "Mind if I join you?" Doc asked, his voice kept low as he settled beside her on a fallen log.

  Tanna shifted slightly to make room. "Good timing. It's been quiet so far."

  Doc nodded, his eyes scanning the treeline with the same methodical attention she'd noticed during their previous expeditions. Fish was nowhere in sight, but Tanna had no doubt the wolf was nearby, probably circling their perimeter.

  "We've seen each other around camp," Doc said after a moment, "but I realize I haven't really gotten to know you."

  Tanna smiled faintly. "I understood. It's been quite a busy time with your hunting and water expeditions." She traced a pattern in the dirt with a stick, marking the boundaries of her awareness. "You've had your hands full keeping everyone alive."

  A comfortable silence settled between them. Tanna found herself studying Doc's profile, trying once again to puzzle out what made him different from others she'd met. There was something in his manner—the way he observed everything, cataloged it, processed it—that reminded her of scholars she'd encountered in her travels, yet his combat skills spoke of warrior instead.

  "I never properly thanked you," she said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

  Doc turned to her, eyebrows raised slightly.

  "For saving us," Tanna clarified, her ears flattening slightly in embarrassment. "I know it's been a few days now, but with everything happening... None of us would be alive or free today if it weren't for your intervention."

  Doc smiled at that, a small, understated expression. "I just did what anyone would do."

  Tanna couldn't help but chuckle at the way he said it, as if charging into a bandit camp and then facing down Rellan was somehow ordinary. "Anyone?" she repeated, shaking her head. "You faced down a high-level Voidcaster for a bunch of strangers. Most adventurers would have walked away—or joined the bandits."

  She shook her head to clear it, suddenly aware she was rambling. "What I mean to say is—"

  The words died in her throat. Something shifted in the forest's rhythm—a discordant note in the symphony she'd been monitoring. Her Tamer's Vigil skill flared to life, sending a warning prickle across her skin.

  Doc noticed her sudden alertness. "What is it?"

  Tanna raised a hand for silence, extending her senses outward. The usual forest chatter had gone silent. No birds called. No insects chirped. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

  "Something's wrong," she whispered, rising slowly to her feet. "The forest just went quiet in a pattern I don't recognize."

  Doc stood beside her, hand drifting to his weapon. "Predators?"

  "No," Tanna frowned, trying to interpret what her skill was telling her. "Predators create a wave of silence that moves with them. This is... different. More like the ground itself is—"

  A violent rustling erupted from the underbrush twenty paces ahead. The forest floor heaved upward as what had appeared to be moss and fallen logs suddenly twisted and reshaped themselves. Barbed vines shot upward, forming grotesque, maw-like openings lined with thorns.

  "Doc!" Tanna shouted, reaching for her knife. "The plants are—"

  More movement erupted to their left and right—what they'd taken for natural forest debris suddenly rising, revealing themselves as camouflaged plant-creatures. Their root-tendrils writhed hungrily as they converged on the logging party.

  "Ambush!" Doc called out, drawing his weapon as the first wave of thorny vines lashed toward them.

  Tanna rolled to the side as a barbed vine slashed through the air where she'd stood. Her heart pounded as she assessed the ambush unfolding around them. These weren't ordinary plants—these were Bramblelash Stalkers, territorial predators that mimicked forest debris until disturbed.

  "Stay mobile!" she shouted, drawing her curved hunting knife. "They'll try to root-trap you!"

  A thorny tendril whipped toward her face. She ducked beneath it, slashing upward with her blade, severing the appendage. Sap sprayed across her leather vest as the creature emitted a hissing sound.

  Across the clearing, Tor bellowed in rage, swinging his axe in wide arcs that cleaved through the plant-flesh. Calen and Bran stood back-to-back, fending off attacks with makeshift spears fashioned from logging tools. Kesh moved like smoke between the creatures, his hunting knife finding vulnerable points where root systems connected to the main body.

  But it was Doc who captured Tanna's attention.

  He moved with impossible precision, each step and strike flowing into the next as though choreographed. His strange weapon discharged bursts of energy that seared through the plant-creatures, leaving smoking holes in their bark-like armor. There was something unnatural about his movements—a split-second hesitation before each attack, as if he were listening to instructions only he could hear.

  "Doc!" Kesh called out between strikes. "Fire and sound! They hate fire and loud noises!"

  Doc nodded once, adjusting something on his weapon. The next blast carried a higher pitch, and the nearest Bramblelash recoiled violently, its tendrils curling inward.

  Tanna ducked another attack, using her Beastmurmur in an attempt to confuse the plant-creatures. They weren't truly beasts, but they possessed enough animal instinct that her skill created momentary hesitation—just enough for her to slash at their sensitive root systems.

  "Behind you!" Calen shouted from somewhere to her right.

  Tanna spun to find a massive Bramblelash rising up, its maw-like opening dripping with paralytic spores. She raised her knife, knowing it would be too little, too late—

  A black shadow materialized between her and certain death. Fish appeared from nowhere, her form rippling into existence as she leapt at the creature. The wolf's jaws clamped around what passed for the plant's throat, ripping through fibrous tissue with savage efficiency.

  In the same moment, Doc's weapon discharged, the energy blast hitting precisely where Fish had weakened the creature's defenses. The coordination was flawless—as though wolf and man shared a single mind.

  "They're flanking!" Tor shouted as more creatures erupted from the forest floor.

  Tanna found herself surrounded, three Bramblelash converging on her position. She slashed at one, kicked at another, but the third circled behind, its root system already beginning to entangle her boots.

  "Use the timber!" Doc called out, his voice cutting through the chaos. "The fresh-cut wood—they're avoiding it!"

  Understanding dawned. Tanna fought her way toward the pile of newly harvested logs. The sap of the silver-barked trees must contain something the creatures found repellent.

  She almost made it.

  A hidden tendril wrapped around her ankle, yanking her off balance. She hit the ground hard, the impact driving the breath from her lungs. Her knife spun away into the underbrush. The Bramblelash loomed over her, thorny appendages poised to strike.

  Tanna braced for pain—but instead heard the distinctive sound of Doc's weapon charging. A blinding flash of energy struck the creature, causing it to writhe in agony. Doc appeared beside her, offering his hand.

  "You alright?" he asked, pulling her to her feet with surprising strength.

  "I—yes," she managed, still processing how quickly he'd reached her. "How did you—"

  Her question died as Fish materialized on her other side, the wolf's fur still shimmering with the aftereffects of her phase-shifting. The coordination between them was unlike anything she'd ever witnessed in her years as a beast tamer.

  "Fall back to the wagon!" Kesh shouted. "Form a perimeter around the timber!"

  Tanna watched in disbelief as Doc's entire demeanor shifted. His eyes narrowed with sudden focus, and he muttered something under his breath—a command or activation phrase she couldn't quite catch. What happened next defied explanation.

  Doc's movements became a blur. One moment he stood beside her, the next he was ten paces away, his weapon discharging with surgical precision. Each blast found a vital point in the plant creatures' anatomy—the central stem, the root junction, the spore sacs. He moved with inhuman speed, as if time flowed differently around him.

  Fish underwent a similar transformation. The wolf's already impressive stealth ability intensified until she became little more than a shadow dancing between targets. Where Fish struck, plant matter exploded in showers of sap and fibrous tissue. Predator and companion moved in perfect synchronization, covering each other's flanks without a single verbal command.

  "Gods above," Tanna whispered, backing toward the timber pile with the others.

  Tor stood with his axe half-raised, mouth agape as Doc vaulted over a lunging Bramblelash, fired three shots in mid-air, and landed in a roll that carried him directly into the next target. The lumberjack had clearly seen skilled fighters before, but nothing like this.

  Kesh maintained his composure better than the others, though his eyes tracked Doc's movements with professional assessment. His expression shifted from surprise to something approaching reverence as Doc dispatched three creatures in the span of heartbeats.

  "Should we help?" Calen asked, clutching his makeshift spear.

  "I don't think we can keep up," Bran replied, watching as Fish phased through a tangle of vines to emerge at its vulnerable underside.

  The battle—if such one-sided slaughter could be called that—lasted less than a minute. What had been an overwhelming ambush transformed into a systematic elimination. Doc and Fish moved from target to target with mechanical efficiency, leaving nothing but twitching plant matter in their wake.

  When the final Bramblelash fell, the forest resumed its ambient sounds as if nothing had happened. Birds cautiously began to sing again. The wind rustled through leaves. Nature reclaimed its rhythm.

  Doc stood among the devastation, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He muttered something else—words Tanna strained to hear but couldn't make out—and then his shoulders slumped noticeably. The strange intensity that had possessed him moments before seemed to drain away, leaving him looking suddenly tired.

  He turned toward the group, his face breaking into a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

  "Guess we found out why they call it the Hollow Vale," Doc said, attempting a light tone. "The plants have hollow values—no respect for personal space."

  The joke hung awkwardly in the air. Tor blinked twice, Calen's mouth opened slightly, and Bran just stared.

  Kesh broke the silence with a low whistle. "You know, Doc, just when I think I've got you figured out, you go and do something like this." He gestured at the carnage surrounding them. "You never fail to impress."

  Calen and Tor continued to stare at Doc with undisguised awe, while Bran simply offered a knowing smile, as if he'd suspected such capabilities all along.

  Tanna surveyed the battlefield—for that's what it had become. Dozens of plant creatures lay in various states of dismemberment, their deadly appendages now harmless in death. Smoking craters marked where Doc's weapon had burned through their defenses. Clean, precise cuts showed where Fish's jaws had severed vital connections.

  A chill ran down Tanna's spine despite the forest's warmth. The display of power she'd just witnessed went beyond skill or training. Whatever Doc was—whatever class or ability set he possessed—it was something she'd never encountered in all her years of traveling.

  And she couldn't help but feel profoundly grateful that he was on their side.

  Tanna watched as the group reorganized after the attack. Doc and Kesh moved among the fallen plant creatures, discussing which parts might be valuable to harvest. Tor and Bran returned to their work, chopping and loading timber with renewed urgency, their movements quicker now, eyes constantly scanning for further threats.

  She sat on a fallen log, heart still racing from the encounter. Her hands trembled slightly as she cleaned sap from her hunting knife. What she'd witnessed defied everything she knew about beast companions and their tamers.

  Fish had moved like liquid shadow, appearing and disappearing at will. The wolf's coordination with Doc had been flawless—beyond the realm of verbal commands or trained signals. It was as though they shared thoughts, anticipating each other's movements with impossible precision.

  "What kind of class allows for that?" she whispered to herself, replaying the battle in her mind.

  In her years as a Beast Tamer, she'd encountered legendary adventurers with powerful familiars—mages with ethereal familiars, rangers with loyal beasts, even a few rare summoners with otherworldly companions. But nothing like Fish. The wolf's phasing ability alone was extraordinary, but combined with that level of battle synchronization...

  Tanna shook her head. She'd tried scanning Doc several times since his arrival, hoping to understand his class, but her skill always slid off him without result. It was as though he existed outside the system entirely—an impossibility she couldn't begin to comprehend.

  "Must be some mythic-tier class," she murmured, watching Doc gesture to Kesh about something in the plant creature's core system. "Something from the old legends."

  A soft rustle drew her attention. Fish materialized beside her log, amber eyes studying her with that unsettling intelligence. The wolf's midnight fur still rippled with faint violet patterns—aftereffects of her recent phasing.

  Tanna held perfectly still, unsure of the wolf's intentions. Fish had never approached her directly before, always maintaining a watchful distance.

  "Hello there," she said softly, extending her hand palm-down in the universal gesture of non-threat.

  Fish regarded her for a long moment, then stepped forward and gently pressed her muzzle against Tanna's fingers. The contact sent a warm tingle up Tanna's arm—not unpleasant, just... different. Like touching something that existed partially in another realm.

  "You're something special, aren't you?" Tanna whispered, carefully moving her hand to scratch behind Fish's ear.

  The wolf leaned into her touch, eyes half-closing in contentment. For all her otherworldly power, Fish was still a wolf at heart—appreciating a good ear scratch like any other canine.

  Tanna smiled, her professional curiosity giving way to simple joy at this moment of connection. Whatever mysteries surrounded Doc and Fish could wait for another day.

  Thanks for reading Chapter 17!

  understands bonds, what she sees is something else entirely.

  Chapter 18 drops Friday!