Bonds of Beast

Taks between Men

Khan hoisted Innana onto a soft patch of earth near the base of a tree, using his cloak to prop her head up. Her breathing was still uneven, and her body twitched with every shallow inhale.

"You stay with her," Khan instructed Liam. "Make sure she drinks when she wakes up. Even if it's just a few drops at a time. Keep her warm—she's burning through energy too fast."

Liam looked ready to argue but knew better than to cross Khan right now. He nodded grimly and knelt beside Innana, cradling her head and wiping soot from her face with a damp cloth.

"What about food?" Liam asked, worry etched into his features.

Khan stood, brushing ash off his hands. "I'll search for anything edible—roots, fruits, whatever this place has left to offer." His gaze swept the surroundings. He knew this place was only a temporary reprieve. They needed to keep moving if they wanted to survive, but Innana was in no shape to travel yet.

"If I'm not back in an hour, start a fire to signal me," Khan added. His tone was flat, but there was a flicker of something beneath it—something that almost sounded like fear. He hated the uncertainty of this situation, the weight of keeping Innana alive when everything around them seemed bent on her destruction.

Khan stalked through the forest like a predator on the prowl, every sense heightened. His nostrils flared, catching the faint scents of damp soil and rotting wood beneath the layers of ash and smoke. The trees here were not untouched by the volcano's wrath—most of them leaned at unnatural angles, roots half-exposed, clutching the earth like twisted claws. He stepped carefully over patches of brittle underbrush, avoiding loose soil that could give way beneath his weight.

His ears twitched at every movement—a flutter of wings, the skitter of claws across bark. Somewhere off to his right, the rapid heartbeat of a rodent pulsed in his mind, followed by the soft crunch of its bones as a predator seized it. Everything here was fighting to survive, just like him.

He crouched low, sweeping his gaze across the uneven ground. Beneath a collapsed tree, he found a cluster of half-rotten fruits clinging desperately to life in the ash-dusted dirt. The fruit's skin was wrinkled and split, revealing pale flesh within that smelled slightly sour. He inspected them carefully, pressing his thumb into the skin—spoiled, but not enough to make them useless. Khan scraped off the worst parts with a sharp claw and wrapped the salvageable pieces in a strip of his cloak.

Moving deeper into the thicket, he came across a patch of roots snaking through the cracked, dry soil. They were tough and fibrous, but edible if boiled. Khan dug them out with his hands, the dirt caking his nails and palms, his muscles tensing with every pull as the roots resisted his grip. They came free with a satisfying snap, and he tucked them into his makeshift bundle.

Khan rose to his feet, his senses still on high alert. The forest was eerily silent now, save for the distant groan of the volcano and the occasional shuffle of displaced creatures fleeing the firestorms. He glanced toward the distant mountains, where plumes of smoke still billowed into the sky, darkening the horizon like a bruise across the earth. Time was running out. The longer they stayed in this cursed place, the greater the risk that they wouldn't make it out.

Suddenly, his ears pricked at the sound of a snapping branch—a heavier creature nearby, something large and cautious. Khan froze, listening. It wasn't a predator, but neither was it prey—it was a warning that the balance of this place had shifted. Even the animals knew something worse was coming. The forest itself felt restless, the air thick with an unspoken tension, as if everything around him was waiting for the world to collapse.