Chapter 37
──⋆˖☽ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 ☾˖⋆── The metallic tang of blood, sharp and coppery, cut through the forest's rot. A man was draped lifelessly over a thick root. He was the first I counted. "I'm not sure how bad it is," Celia replied, her voice trembling as she scanned the c*****e. My own assessment was faster. "At least three dead." My heart didn't sink; it seized. A vibration thrummed through the soles of my boots—not a tremor, but a footfall. Heavy. Measured. I spun, hand flying to my bow. Only one creature in these woods moved with that much weight. A Monhusk. The memory surfaced, slick with old fear. I'd faced one, once. A walking mountain of muscle and gnarled hide, towering halfway up the ancient trees. My arrows had thudded against its skin like blunt twigs. A sharp, icy tremor
- Writer
