Everything was burning. The children were screaming. The smallest wasn’t moving.

And I… I couldn’t get up.

One of the creatures had me pinned to the ground. Its hand around my neck. Its eyes… empty.

I tried to scream. But nothing came out.

“NO!” I gasped.

I opened my eyes suddenly.

The cave. I was in the cave.

Sitting. Sweating. Breathing fast. Trembling.

It was a dream.

The children were sleeping. The smallest made that sound again.

I picked him up gently, held him to my chest, and fed him the paste I had saved in the bark.

While I ate a dried fruit, I looked toward the entrance.

It wasn’t fully dawn yet. Almost… But not yet.

No one had come. Not a goblin. Not an elder. No one.

The tribe… Was it still there? Did anyone survive?

When the little ones woke up, they didn’t ask much. They just ate in silence.

I left them fruit.

“I’m going to see,” I said softly. “To the tribe. I’ll be back before nightfall. Promise me you won’t leave. Take care of the little one. Wait for me.”

They nodded. Their eyes filled with fear. But they trusted me.

I crouched. Left the cave silently.

My heart pounded hard. My skin felt cold.

Each step was a thought: “What if they’re still there?” “What if they see me?” “What if I don’t come back?”

But I remembered something. I wasn’t alone.

Slime was in my chest. Inside. With me.

I moved carefully. Watched. Listened. And kept going.

The branches seemed thicker. The shadows longer.

And then…

The tribe.

Or what was left.

Ash. Broken wood. Huts turned to dust.

Bodies. Many.

Some faceless. Others nameless.

I couldn’t go closer. There was nowhere to hide. Only burned air and the smell… of death.

I felt it again. That thing from the little ones. That warm liquid sliding down my face.

I wanted to get closer. To bury them. To… do something.

But I couldn’t.

What if the monsters were still there? What if they saw me?

The black thing between the trees… was gone.

But the fear… remained.

I slipped along the edge. Went to the hut where I hid with the children.

It was still there. The monster.

Lying. White. Empty.

I got closer carefully. With each step, the body seemed less imposing.

It didn’t move. It no longer shone.

It was just there. Covered. Completely covered.

Its body had layers. One on top of another.

First a shiny stone on the chest. Then thick cloth on the arms. Another on the legs. Boots hard as wood. Hands wrapped in fabric.

Nothing was visible except the head.

I pulled at the cloth with my nails. It tore.

It wasn’t its skin. It was… something worn.

I didn’t understand. Was it cold? Ashamed? Why hide like that?

With every layer I removed, the real body was exposed.

And then I saw its flesh. White. Smooth. Strangely soft.

I got closer. Pressed one of my claws.

The skin sank. Easily. Too easily.

As if it wasn’t made to resist. So soft… that just touching it left a mark.

I froze. Surprised.

It wasn’t strong. It only looked strong.

I looked at it. Its eyes closed. Tiny ears. Hair only on top of the head.

A creature pretending to be tough. But inside… it was weak.

I stood up. Took its long claw. Its edge seemed sharp. Maybe it would be useful.

I also tore some leather from its pants. That fabric was thick, resistant. Could cover the cave entrance. Could keep the little ones warm.

And then I left. With slow steps. Without looking back.

Returning to the cave was like returning to my heart.

As soon as I parted the plants at the entrance, the children ran to me.

One threw himself into my arms. The other collapsed, like his legs couldn’t hold him anymore.

The smallest… slept, but his tiny hand searched for mine.

I gave them what I brought. Fruits. Seeds. Sweet bark. Soft cloths.

The shiny claw—I hid it.

The children were saddened when I said nothing about the tribe. But they didn’t ask.

They just hugged me.

Something in them already knew.

I did too.

I prepared the back corner. The cave narrowed there, like a stone funnel.

I hung the fabrics. The monster’s leather. Made a wall so no light could escape.

And I lit a tiny spark. The smallest fire I could make. It made no smoke.

But it gave just enough light.

Enough so the children wouldn’t be afraid. And so I could… breathe, for one more moon.