CHAPTER 85: TRAPS ARE GONE!?

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Then, with a kind of ancient drake dignity, Star nudged Muse’s shoulder. Not hard. Not soft. A welcome, begrudging but real.

Muse, moved by the gesture, responded with a soft and rather lady-like moo.

She took one bold step forward and sat near the fire with the slow grace of someone who had decided they were part of the story now.

Zephyr stared...

Fenna stared...

Aurora flapped twice and crash-landed near Star’s. The drake did not react, only blinked like a patient baby dragon.

Zephyr sighed—half fondness, half defeat. He scratched behind Muse’s ear, and the cow tilted her head into the touch, grunting with pleasure.

"Okay, okay. You’re back on the team."

He looked toward Fenna, who now wore a full grin. "At least she’s useful. Cart’s supplies we thought we left? Still here."

Fenna nodded. "She’s our backup ammo wagon. How did she come here without stepping on any traps?"

The words felt very questionable.

Aurora, now emboldened by new friendships and cow rides, leaped off Muse’s back with a burst of flaps and crashed once more.

Zephyr’s brow furrowed as he circled the edge of the firelight, boots whispering across dewed moss. "Something doesn’t add up," he muttered.

Fenna was still beside Muse, gently brushing twigs from the cow’s thick flank. Aurora had finally stopped bouncing and was now curled near Star, yawning tiny embers into the air.

Zephyr straightened. "She made it all the way here without tripping a single trap?"

Fenna’s smile faded into concern. "That’s... not possible, is it?"

Zephyr didn’t answer. He strode off toward the outer ring, moving swiftly but low to the ground, senses tuned. The moon hung sharp overhead, slashing silver lines through the canopy. The air was dry... too dry and even the insects had gone still.

He reached the first trap zone, a pit covered in char-cloth and leaf mesh. The bait was gone. But not chewed.

Shredded.

"What...?"

He knelt, fingers brushing the edges. The rope trigger had been sliced clean—no fray, no chew marks. The pit’s lid lay cracked in two as if stomped. Something heavy, fast, and intelligent had seen the trap and sprung it on purpose.

Zephyr’s jaw tightened.

He jogged east, weaving past the gutted ember-rock stack. The small clay fuse pots were smashed, their shimmer-gel scattered like spilled starlight.

Three traps down. All disabled.

By the time he reached the upper ridge, Zephyr already knew what he would find. But confirmation hit harder than doubt.

The decoy meat was gone. The tripwire was burned. Not broken, not ignored. Burned. A thin line of black traced the length of where the twine had been, charred through like the breath of a beast with fire in its throat.

His breath caught.

"...It came through here."

He turned toward the path Muse had arrived from. Even the cart trail was unspoiled.

That didn’t make sense.

Back at the camp, Muse had shifted closer to Star, who now stood guard with his wings partially unfurled. Aurora lay tucked under Fenna’s lap, dozing in the warm pocket of her protection.

But Muse was restless.

She paced in a half-circle near the fire, her bell jostling softly with each step. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t resting. She was searching—for something or someone to understand.

Zephyr returned quietly, brushing a hand through his hair.

"She’s scared," Fenna said without turning.

"I noticed." He crouched beside the cow, one hand on her massive shoulder. "Muse. What happened?"

Muse blinked at him with deep, watery eyes. She mooed low. Not dramatic like before. Almost... afraid.

She turned toward Star.

The drake tilted his head as Muse approached him directly. She lowered her own head in a gesture that was neither cowlike nor human—but intentional. Her bell didn’t jingle. Her nostrils flared once, and she made a small noise—a deep-throated chuff followed by three short breaths.

Star’s nostrils twitched. His tail stiffened. He stepped closer.

They locked eyes.

Then—no sound—Star growled. Not at her. At the memory of whatever scent she had described.

His body shifted forward instinctively, wings bristling. Aurora chirped in surprise as he lifted one claw and pawed at the dirt.

"Muse saw something," Zephyr guessed.

Fenna joined him, arms folded tightly. "Something chased her?"

"Or guided her here," Zephyr said slowly. "She followed a scent. Something scared her enough to abandon the camp and run blind... but that same thing must’ve made sure she didn’t trigger the traps. She didn’t come here alone."

Muse nodded once. Not a cow-like nod. A real one.

Star gave a throaty hum that Zephyr had never heard before—equal parts agreement and warning.

Fenna whispered, "A beast?"

Zephyr looked up at the night sky, where mist was curling once again like thin claws through the trees.

"No," he said. "A hunter."

The fire cracked sharply. Muse sat down again, more carefully now, her sides heaving once as if letting out a truth she couldn’t voice.

Zephyr placed a hand on her forehead. "You were used, weren’t you?"

She didn’t moo. She didn’t move.

Aurora chirped sadly. She waddled forward and placed her tiny head on Muse’s nose.

Star did not sleep that night. Neither did Zephyr.

And in the distance, where none of them could see it—beyond even the ridge where the traps had failed, two glowing feline eyes blinked once... And vanished.

Time- 01:23

A twig snapped. Star’s head jerked north. Moonlight caught the edge of his scales, highlighting tension.

Snap—crack.

Zephyr was on his feet, hatchet in hand before the enemy fully arrived. Fenna emerged an instant later, bow strung, arrow knocked.

Muse stood; cart creaked. Even she sensed danger. Her bell jingled nervously.

Aurora flattened feathers, a hush of fear replacing earlier amusement.

From beyond the hawthorn, heat rolled. Not warm like summer air. It was burning hot. Prickling and Dry.

A faint orange gleam flickered behind brambles.

Zephyr’s traps have already failed. they didn’t clang, no bells, no shards. Whatever approached moved without fear, stepping between snares.

Fenna hissed breath. "It’s here."

Zephyr gestured: positions. Star bounded left, silent. Bowstring tightened. Zephyr crouched beside the lean-to’s corner stone, hatchet low.

Muse retreated behind the cart, eyes wide. She swallowed her moo in fear.

CRACK. A charred branch tumbled into sight, burning from the inside out.

Then, through drifting smoke, emerged the Fire Leopard.