It’s a long hill.

  The world spins as I roll over small rocks and through low branches, making a mess of myself and anything I encounter.

  Except for an accursed bush. I come to a stop when I slam into one. I'm pierced in fifty places. The pain sobers me, though it does nothing to fill my stamina. If I had more than a drop of mana, I’d [Leech Grip] this bush into oblivion.

  Drops of my blood line the thorns and branches of the bush. I rest, ignoring the pain. Mana regen fills me, slow and steady. It takes patience not to blow it all as soon as I have enough for [Leech Grip].

  When my mana’s half full, I grip the bush and leech it dry, pulling myself from the thorns. It’s a small bush, not enough to fill my vitality, so I leech a tree branch as well.

  [Leech Grip] has strengthened enough for me to fill myself twice over with full mana.

  Nox arrives and lands on my shoulder.

  [Spirit Bond] is now level 2.

  Nox seems proud as it clicks at me before settling down to rest. I’m unsure what progress means for a bond with a beetle, but I hope it leads to proper communication because I still guess at what Nox says.

  As I walk further, I activate [Detect Decay]. Breakfast is long in coming.

  There’s a small pulsing patch near a stand of trees. I hike over, but once again I don’t find fungi. Instead, rotting leaves and branches cover the ground like a bed. I walk over to investigate when Nox hisses.

  I slow. The random arrangement of plant matter seems manmade. Curious. Something about it disturbs Nox.

  Then I see it. Thin branches crisscross the ground under the foliage like a net. I snatch a rock and throw it at the center. The ground collapses in that spot, leaving a gaping hole.

  When I peer over the edge, I can see spear points at the bottom. And a rot that I hadn’t noticed, the real decay I followed here.

  The hunters are efficient. They have many ways to capture prey.

  Laughter echoes at that moment, and I almost slip into the hole in surprise. The sound is unfamiliar to me.

  It repeats. A young girl maybe. Another bout of laughter comes by a boy; both far enough away that my worry evaporates. Besides, they sound too young to be out hunting.

  Yet, I’m curious, more so than one might expect when trying to stay hidden. Unlike with the hunters, I’m drawn to the children. It may be because I am a child, or at least have the stature of one.

  I wander toward the sound, staying behind trees as I sneak for a closer look.

  It’s by one of these trees that my foot catches something rough. When I try to shake loose, I flip upside down.

  My head smashes against the ground and I’m suddenly dangling in the air. A curved branch carries me, tied with thick rope attached to my ankle.

  I’m a fool for disregarding danger after seeing the pit trap.

  Blood pools on the ground under the gash on my head. I cannot reach anything to [Leech Grip], so I ignore it for now.

  I lift myself up to reach the knotted rope. It hurts to hold myself like this, but I grip the rope with one hand and pull at the knot with the other.

  It’s so tight I cannot budge it. The more I pick at it, the more my fingers hurt.

  I [Leech Grip] the rope with no success. The weathered thing has no vitality to steal.

  I let go and dangle again, letting my stamina replenish and giving me time to think. There’s nothing I can use around me.

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  Nox has been circling, clicking this whole time. Good cheerleading, but nothing more unless I can learn to understand it. Nox lands on the rope and climbs it to the top of the branch, then back down.

  The branch. The branch has vitality.

  I reach up and catch hold of the rope. Then climb. One hand over the other, I lift my body, twisting as I ascend. I’m close to the curved branch when my stamina fails me. My strength leaves and I fall down, swinging my head over the ground.

  At the height of my swing, I snatch a twig. I have a new idea.

  The wait for stamina replenish is agonizing.

  Before I’m ready, I hear voices. The hunters from earlier.

  “How’d it collapse without nothing to show for it?” says one voice.

  My stamina’s half full, but I’m tempted to try my escape again.

  The other hunters have their guesses

  “Maybe the wind blew in.”

  “Could be a Shade Spirit warping the forest.”

  “Nah,” says the first. “I bet it was those scrapping kids. I know they don’t like us hunting. Remember the time they broke your bow, Taren?”

  “It was an accident,” the boy, Taren, says. “They don’t really mean—”

  “That’s not how you said it back when they snapped the wretched thing. You said they got it out for hunters, not wanting you to be one.”

  “I got angry, that’s all.” Taren sounds stressed. “They’re good kids.”

  “Then they won’t mind us asking them, will they?”

  Taren doesn’t respond, but I hear them coming my direction. My stamina isn't full, but I need to act now.

  I reach up and grab the rope, wrap it around the stick twice, then lift myself up. This time, when I twist up with the rope, I find the stick with my free foot and press down, getting traction. The strain of pulling myself up lessens, giving me more time.

  I can see the hunters' cloaks through the trees. My fingers are an inch away from the curved branch above. I can almost reach it. I push on the stick tied to the rope…a little further.

  “Hey,” calls a hunter, “what’s that in our trap?”

  “Looks like a kid.”

  Nox races above me on the curved branch, hissing up a storm.

  One finger touches the branch and I pour mana into [Leech Grip], but my contact with the branch is short. It withers, but does not break.

  The hunters are running over now.

  I swing my arm up again and blast the branch with [Leech Grip].

  My weight proves too much for the withering branch. It snaps and I crash to the ground in my pool of blood. My head’s healed, I’m full of vitality, but my stamina remains low.

  The hunters appear at the edge of the clearing as I leap into a tree. I climb without thought, reaching as high as I can before my stamina depletes.

  Then I feel a yank. My foot tugs against what remains of the branch on the rope, which has wedged itself tightly against the tree.

  The eldest hunter below looks up at me, but I’m hidden by the leaves.

  “This one’s the culprit. Whoever he is.” The man gazes up, eyes narrowed. “Come down, kid!”

  I don’t move. Instead, I tug at the knots on my ankle. With both hands I make progress, but it hurts.

  The hunter grabs the lowest branch and lifts himself up.

  I rip at the knot on my ankle as he gets closer. My fingers slip and I jam my fingers against the branch below me.

  “Look, kid,” the man says as he climbs. “We ain’t gonna hurt you. Just want help in setting our traps again. You owe us that much at least, yeah?”

  His tone changes, friendlier, but I don’t trust it. I focus on the knot. I feel it loosen as my fingernails bleed.

  My ankle is yanked again and the knot tightens. The hunter below has caught hold of the rope.

  He yanks it a second time. He’s too big to climb the branches to where I sit.

  “You got any coin kid? If you ain’t up for work, a bit of coin would do. Where you from, anyhow?”

  I can’t reach the knot with him yanking on me, but I notice something else.

  I let myself get dragged down one branch, then another. The hunter seems pleased.

  Then, when I’m close, I reach out to the branch above him, nice and thick, and [Leech Grip] with all the mana built up in me. It withers at my touch and cracks, breaking off.

  The hunt cries out, lets go of my rope, and shields himself with his hands as the branch smashes into him.

  The impact dislodges him from the tree and he tumbles down. The other hunters gather around him. I pull the rope and attached branch up so it cannot hinder me, then climb higher.

  The injured hunter curses me, then gasps in pain.

  Another calms him. “Leave it be, Honep. He’s just a kid. He ain’t worth the trouble.”

  Honep curses again, but lets the others drag him to his feet and away from my tree.

  I spend the rest of the morning pulling the knot apart, content to stay up here all day if the hunters come back, but they don’t.

  The laughter of the children echoes again. Clearly, the eldest hunter, Honep, doesn’t care for them. Which means these kids are the good people I’d hoped to find.