Weary boots drag through dusty paths, battling along the long road, fighting their way beyond tree after tree. Zeke struggles to hold his feet, every step tensing his battered muscles, every movement stinging his bruises and wounds, all producing staggered steps, barely in line with one and other.

The eves darkness draws near, lengthening the forests shadows to cut off any vision the boy holds beyond his swollen, half closed eyes. The tears now dry providing raw rings of burnt flesh as he blinks.

His breaths gape, wheezing with every struggled lungful as he progresses on, now almost autonomously with even the thoughts in his head abandoning him to his solitude.

Without warning, a troublesome root cuts off his path, hooking the unknowing boys foot.

Zeke doesn't react, until half fallen he barely notices. Even before he can he hits the soil, face and body flat with no support from submissive arms. Upon his first contact he bounces somewhat, sliding against the hardened dirt, shredding into his shirt and trousers evermore. Providing yet more open cuts with which his numbed body fails to comprehend.

He doesn't move, not even a inch. Nothing but his heart and lungs, refusing to leave the boy to his final breaths.

Zeke's head lays side on, his eyes blink heavy, finding it more and more difficult staying awake to the near blackness of the forest.

Before him the shrubbery rustles slightly. For the miles he's already walked, he's barely noticed the critters about him, yet now, laying flat and motionless, all he can do is accept whatever fate the creature in the bushes has for him.

At first, the rustling is light, somewhat hidden in the shadows, and the faint breeze that blows about the leaves, yet it grows and grows, eventually opening up to reveal a half consealed, pointed nose, and two eyes that seem to glow brighter in the darkness than they every would in the daylight.

The creature edges closer with no malice within its being. Just curiosity about the twitching pointed ears atop it's furry head, and sniffing snout that draws ever closer.

With every step of its little paws, it stops dead still, ensuring the lack of any oncoming presences. Eventually, the funnerty shows it's whole body, from the two front paws that hold it's curious pointed face, to the creeping back legs that keep it's twisted, bushy tail ready to retreat.

Closer and closer it comes, snuffing the air between itself and Zeke. Eventually, after many a sniffle, and more safety checks than would ever be necessary, it's nose presses against Zeke's cheek.

The cold wet sensation wakes the boy somewhat, growing from the point of contact, out to the rest of his body for as long as it's held.

As though provoked, it jerks it's head back, somewhat satisfied. It's nose twitches, giving the small beast slight discomfort before it's hammered against the soil in an uncontrolled sneeze. A sneeze that seems to satisfy the discomfort of its twitch.

Suddenly, it's ears perk up, and it's head is thrown out in the direction Zeke was walking. Its stands dead still, fearing even a breath could give it away. Yet before anything can emerge, it darts. Straight back into the bush with which it came.

And just like that, after the rustling of the bushes leaves die down, Zeke once again finds himself alone, in the darkened silence of the night.

This time though, he feels a new sense of strength. As though a simple innocent gesture has opened up something deep within his heart, giving him the will to continue.

He fights back to his feet, the numbed crevices of his body creak as they force him to a stand.

A shuffling sounds on the pathway ahead, a sound Zeke figures was the cause of the funnerty's hasty retreat. Usually he'd prepare himself, grabbing at the blade in his holster and taking to a more hardened stance. But this time he wont. He doesn't have it in him. Whatever it is will either pass him by, or take him out. Neither of which seem to sway Zeke's thoughtless mind.

It's only then that Zeke notices that he's been stood a good while, not moving an inch. The creature approaching is already upon him. For the first time since he's woken, it's a welcoming sight.

"Zeke!" it calls, it's voice filled as much with unease as the joy it forces.

"Zeke, where have you been?" She adds, throwing her arms around the young boys neck, forcing a shock of pain to shoot up his spine.

He wails slightly, but holds it in to keep his friend from worrying. Instead a sharp grimmice suffices.

Isla looks Zeke up and down, all the while the wrinkle on her brow grows and a slight glistening takes to her eyes. Her hands shake towards his face. She strokes his cheek, where a deep cut has almost took his eye.

With a deep breath Isla retracts her hand. Her eyes look away, refusing to make eye contact with the boy.

Zeke's heart feels his friends sorrow, growing in fear of how she'll react. He searches the forest, hoping an explanation will emerge, though it never does.

"I thought they got you. We all did." Isla starts, her voice cracking beneath her initial whispers.

Zeke holds his glance. A lump grows in his throat as his body twitches uncontrollably. "I..." He tries his best but cant find the words.

Suddenly Isla snaps. "What were you thinking. We could have lost you."

Zeke stutters back. "It's okay, im ..." but again, no real words form.

"No. Its not okay. Zeke look at yourself. You have cuts on your face, your arms, your hands. Your clothes are all torn and bloody. Even your pads..." Isla again looks away. She tears up, struggling to hold in her emotions. "What even could have done this?"

Zeke can only stand wordless. How can he explain. For seasons now both Isla and his mother had warned him about taking on beasts out of his level, yet here he is, on the back end of an attack they both threatened would come.

"Zeke" Isla begins, coaxing Zeke from his silence. "You've been gone for almost three days."

In an instant his eyes open wide. He freezes on the spot. Three days. How could that happen. He knew he was hurt bad, but three days is ridiculous. What happened while he was out? What happened to the beast? How is he still alive?

Zeke takes a deep breath, hoping all that happened would just disappear. His eyes well up. His lips quivver. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He just want his mother, just him and her sat by the fire drinking warmed chocolate.

"Isla?" Zeke mutters, his head hanging as low as can be. "I want moma."

Zeke feels weakened, for the first time since a toddler asking for his mother, but now he wouldn't want anything more.

Isla stumbles for a moment. She stutters, looking for the words. "Zeke... Your mother..."

In an instant, his worst nightmare's dawn upon him.

"She went out after you. They found her just out of the city. She wasn't very good."

Zeke shuts down. He looks to the ground, his fists clenched tightly. All of his pain seems to have passed, a surge of energy flows though his body. He takes a deep breath, refusing to make eye contact with Isla.

"Where is she?" He asks, his tone intense yet calm. Now is not the time to sob. He came to the forest to save her, and all it done was speed her condition.

"She's in the medical bay, but she isn't looking too good."

Before Isla can say any more, Zeke is off. He flashes past her and darts towards the city gate.

"Zeke, wait!" Isla shouts running after him.