The forest had become quiet in the wrong way.
Etzel had never realized there were different kinds of silence until the last two days.
There was ordinary silence.
Morning silence.
The comfortable kind between breaths of wind and birdsong.
Then there was the silence that came after something died.
And now there was this.
The silence of things that had already left.
Etzel stood beside DK and stared into the deeper forest.
Behind them lay the dead Hooktail Grazer.
Ahead, five sets of tracks crossed the damp earth.
Different sizes.
Different species, probably.
All moving in the same direction.
Away.
Etzel tightened his grip on the hatchet.
"What could make five different creatures run together?"
DK crouched again.
"They weren't together."
"That's somehow less comforting."
DK touched one print.
"They passed through this area at different times."
"How different?"
"I don't know."
Etzel looked at him.
DK looked back.
"Right. Amnesia."
"I was going to say I lack enough information."
"Mine was shorter."
DK stood.
Etzel's ribs protested when he straightened.
That reminded him of another important fact.
He was injured.
His mother had told him to rest.
And he was considering walking toward whatever had frightened multiple monsters out of their territory.
He looked deeper into the forest.
"This is a terrible idea."
"Yes."
Etzel glanced at DK.
"You agreed very quickly."
"You are injured."
"Bruised."
"Bleeding."
"Less than yesterday."
"You were nearly killed yesterday."
"Technically twice."
DK stared at him.
Etzel sighed.
"You're ruining my argument."
"I haven't heard one yet."
Etzel looked at the tracks.
There was a sensible option.
Go home.
Report abnormal creature movement.
Let experienced Hunters investigate.
Continue training somewhere else.
It was an excellent option.
He hated it.
Not because he wanted danger.
Yesterday had removed whatever romantic ideas he might once have had about almost dying.
But something was wrong here.
And the wrongness was moving toward populated trails.
If creatures were fleeing deeper territory, they would eventually go somewhere.
People lived somewhere.
Etzel pointed at the tracks.
"We don't go deep."
DK said nothing.
"We follow far enough to understand what's happening. If we see anything remotely above what we can handle—"
"What you can handle."
Etzel frowned.
"What we can handle."
DK's expression remained unchanged.
Etzel sighed.
"Fine. If we see anything remotely above what I can handle, you take over."
"Immediately."
"Reasonably immediately."
"Immediately."
"You negotiate terribly."
"I don't believe this is a negotiation."
Etzel looked at him.
"You're becoming annoying."
"I am learning from you."
That shut him up for almost three seconds.
"That was actually good."
DK turned toward the tracks.
"I know."
Etzel stared at his back.
"Oh, that's dangerous."
They started walking.
They found the first creature twelve minutes later.
Or rather, it found them.
Branches cracked somewhere to Etzel's right.
Fast.
Very fast.
Etzel turned.
DK's sword was halfway out of its sheath when a gray shape burst through a wall of fern.
Etzel saw four legs.
A narrow head.
Two curved horns.
Blood along one flank.
And eyes wide enough to show white.
The System flashed.
SURVEY RECORD
SPECIMEN IDENTIFIED
Target
Ashhorn Runner
Threat Classification
Common