The savage thing stood at the edge of the pool.
Still steaming. Still snarling in breath, but not moving. Its claws dug into the soil. Its muscles coiled like tension made flesh. But it didn't attack. Didn't drink.
It watched.
The waterfall's light played across its hunched frame, refracting in strange hues off its bony carapace. Its many teeth glistened, unmoving. It gazed down at the glowing pond not with hunger—but with purpose.
Deliberate.
Damien's brow furrowed.
There was something in that posture. Something… familiar.
Not in shape. Not in sound.
In feeling.
That weight in the chest. That edge between fury and survival. Between pain and purpose.
He rose fully now.
Step by slow step, he moved toward it.
The other beings didn't stop him.
Didn't notice.
The savage one didn't either.
But Damien kept moving—drawn by that pull. That whisper of shared instinct.
'What is that?' he thought, his breath tight.
