Adrian bristled. He had little patience for superstition, but the forester’s eyes carried a weight of genuine fear. “What if it’s injured?” Adrian pressed. The man shook his head. “Injured wolves hide. Their instinct is to heal or die. They don’t stand guard.” He refused to speak further.
As Adrian walked back, the forest felt altered. Every shadow seemed thicker, every rustle in the undergrowth too sharp. His rational mind whispered explanations like injury, instinct, and territorial drive. But none matched what he had seen. The wolf wasn’t surviving. For lack of a better word, it seemed to be “sacrificing” itself.