Just as I was about to start holding the rabbits over the fire, an orange flash shot toward my bait in the middle of the clearing. Instinctively, I grabbed my bow, an arrow, drew the string, aimed, and was just about to shoot at whatever it was when another flash, this time in human form, leapt at me from the bushes.

I released the string as the force of the impact knocked me to the ground, for the person on top of me was surprisingly light. The arrow flew and lodged itself into the ground several meters away from the creature, which I now recognized as a fox.

All of this happened within seconds, so I remained lying down afterward, waiting for my head to stop spinning.

Soon, the person stood up, and as soon as I could see him clearly, I became angry, afraid, and overjoyed all at once. Because standing before me was none other than Dante who was supposed to still be in the bunker.

Joy got the better of me at first, and I pulled the boy into my arms. Then came the anger, and I held Dante by the shoulders at arm's length away as I scolded him:

“Dante, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with your father, helping the village that’s very important! And you’re safe there! And why, in Satan’s name, would you throw yourself at me just as I’m about to shoot an arrow? I could have hit you and seriously hurt you. Damn it, I almost hit you, kid! Don’t scare me like that!”

The boy’s expression changed into something completely unpleasant. It made his sweet face look dark and distant, and immediately I felt terrible. When he spoke, he sounded angry:

“You have no right to talk about protecting the village when you were the first to leave us!”

Suddenly, his face twisted again into an even worse expression. He began to cry. My heart couldn’t bear to see my little cousin like that. There wasn’t much that could make Dante cry, and that thought only made me feel worse, as if thorns were piercing my heart.