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He nodded, his eyes reflecting the calm of the surrounding forest. “You are welcome, Claudia. The storm was a fierce one.”
I hesitated at the mouth of the cave, the pull to stay tugging at me stronger than I expected. “Could I... visit you again?” The question hung between us, innocent on the surface but layered with my unspoken intentions.
Zunnik’s eyes searched mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. “You wish to return here?”
I nodded, as I hoped my eagerness didn’t betray my true motive. He drew me in - this solitary guardian of the forest - and I needed to understand why. “Yes, I’d like that. There’s so much I can learn from you about this place.”
A moment passed before he answered. “You may visit,” he said.
Relief washed over me as I smiled. “Thank you. I’ll be careful not to intrude on your solitude.”
He offered a small nod, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he turned away.
I stepped out into the daylight, which now seemed to flood the world with new possibilities. Behind me, Zunnik retreated into the shadows of his cave—a creature both mysterious and familiar.
As I walked away, I couldn’t shake the sense that he offered much more than met the eye. And as much as I told myself I desired a professional interest l—a wildlife researcher’s curiosity—I knew something deeper drew me in.
The amarok sparked an intrigue in me that went beyond notebooks and legends. I wanted to understand him and not just observe him in his natural habitat.
And so I would return, under the guise of friendship and learning, while quietly watching and noting every detail of Zunnik’s existence. For some odd reason, this Amarok captivated me, and I remained determined to uncover all his secrets.
6
Zunnik
The lower ridge offered a vantage point, a place where the land unfolded like an open book under the watchful gaze of the mountains. Claudia pitched her tent there, a speck of color against the vast canvas of green and brown. From my secluded perch, I tracked her movements, the meticulous way she cleared the ground, set up her shelter, and secured her perimeter. She moved with a purpose that resonated deep within me—a kinship born of survival and respect for the wilderness.
Days bled into weeks. Claudia became as much a part of the landscape as the ancient trees and wandering streams. Each morning, she emerged with the dawn, her boots crunching over pine needles and fallen leaves. Notebook in hand, she scanned the horizon, scribbled fervently, then set out on her day’s journey.
I found myself drawn to her routine, to the methodical nature of her quest. She searched for signs of my kind, yet remained oblivious to my proximity. Within a dance of shadows and secrets, she sought evidence. I sought solitude.
But solitude became a shrouded memory as I observed her scale peaks and navigated valleys that stretched beyond my claimed borders. Each expedition she embarked on carved a deeper notch in my awareness. Claudia showed herself as different—resilient, tenacious.
The sun arched high on a clear day when I noticed Claudia venturing further than usual. My paws carried me silently along parallel paths unseen, ensuring no harm would befall her from the other predators that roamed these woods. Her boots left imprints on the mossy earth—a trail I could follow with ease—unnecessarily. I knew this land like the lines etched on my palms.
She paused by a stream, dipped her hands into its icy embrace, and splashed water over her face. I enjoyed witnessing humanity commune with nature—a rare sight that stirred something primal within me.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Her voice cut through the stillness as she spoke to no one—or perhaps to everything around her.
I remained silent, a ghost just beyond perception.
Claudia sat back on her heels and looked around, as if sensing me. She reached for her notebook once more and wrote. From my vantage point, I couldn’t read her words, but imagined them filled with wonder and curiosity about these lands—and about us.
As dusk approached, she returned to camp—a routine that now felt as natural to me as hunting under a full moon. I watched from the shadows as she kindled a fire against the encroaching night while stars emerged above us like silent guardians.
There in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest, amidst towering cedars and whispered legends, our lives intertwined—hers in search of answers; mine in search of peace. Yet neither one could deny the profound connection that grew with each passing day—a bond forged by nature’s indomitable will.
Rain transformed the world into a drum, drops beating on my home's canvas. Claudia sat wrapped in one of my furs, her eyes wide with the wild beauty of the storm. Her gaze found mine, a question dancing in its depths.
“Will you come with me tomorrow?” she asked, her voice barely above the storm’s roar. “I desire to locate the remaining Amaroks. Where do they hide?”
The question hung between us, weighted by unentertained implications. My elusive kin by nature, and our solitude as much a part of us as our fur and fangs. To lead her to them would break an unspoken pact of privacy that governed us for eons.
“They value their solitude,” I replied, the words laced with a caution I hoped she understood. “They’re not keen on being found.”
She nodded, absorbing my warning, but undeterred. “I know,” she murmured, her breath forming clouds in the chill air. “But I have to try.”
Her admirable determination stirred a protectiveness within me I couldn’t fully explain. The space between us buzzed with energy, as if foreshadowing a lightning strike.
