After the others had left, Lynd reached into his pocket and retrieved a small pouch of odor-masking powder. He carefully applied it to the exposed parts of his body, paying particular attention to his face. The rain threatened to wash it away, so he pulled the hood of his jacket snugly over his head before setting out to track the Shadowcat using his sharp sense of sll.
Lynd’s decision to follow the Shadowcat alone had little to do with the legendary hunting trials. What had caught his attention was the sight of man-made objects attached to the creature—several intricately woven vines tied in a way that didn’t impede its movent but were clearly designed to provide stability for soone riding on its back. This peculiar arrangent suggested the rider was not an adult but a child, as an ordinary child would fit the Shadowcat's size perfectly. Yet, even the legendary Skinchangers could not control a Shadowcat in their youth without risking their lives.
The realization struck Lynd: the one riding the Shadowcat might be a Child of the Forest—a being thought to have vanished completely from the southern regions. This possibility, paired with his growing curiosity, drove him deeper into the forest.
For the next half hour, Lynd followed the fading trail, the Shadowcat’s scent becoming stronger as he progressed. Along the way, a mix of other unique, indescribable aromas began to erge. Though Lynd couldn’t associate the scents with specific plants, they felt intrinsically tied to nature itself. Natural was the only way he could describe them.
Cautiously, Lynd slowed his pace, mindful of the noise he made. The rain cloaked his movents, helping him approach silently. Ahead, he spotted a clearing in the dense forest—a small patch of lawn that looked out of place. At its center was a mound overgrown with turf. On closer inspection, it beca apparent that the mound was no re hill but a cleverly disguised dwelling made of branches, stakes, lichen, and soil.
The Shadowcat Lynd had been tracking lounged outside the dwelling. The fawn it had brought back was now dismbered, and three or four Shadowcat cubs, no larger than kittens, were eagerly feasting on the carcass. Despite the captivating sight of the cubs, Lynd’s attention was drawn to a cloaked figure sitting beside the mound. The Shadowcats displayed no aggression toward the figure, an indication that this person might be their handler. Yet their body language suggested sothing more complicated; the adult Shadowcat occasionally snarled or bared its teeth when the cubs approached the figure, an instinctive display of wariness.
Lynd’s curiosity deepened as he observed the cloaked individual. Though he couldn’t make out the person’s features, there was an inexplicable familiarity about them, a nagging feeling that he had encountered this figure before.
As he puzzled over this, a small patch of turf on the mound shifted, revealing a camouflaged wooden door. A diminutive figure erged, carrying a wooden bowl. It approached the cloaked person and handed over the bowl.
Lynd’s breath caught. The creature was unmistakable—a Child of the Forest. Its dark chestnut skin, oversized eyes and ears, and delicate build matched the descriptions from legends. It wore garnts woven from bark and leaves, a flower crown resting on its head, and a stone dagger tucked into its belt. Though frail in appearance, Lynd knew better than to underestimate it. The Children of the Forest had once been formidable warriors and masters of magic, capable of decimating armies through skill and cunning alone.
The cloaked figure accepted the bowl without hesitation, lifting their hood to reveal the face of a middle-aged man. Without a word, the man consud the contents of the bowl, his trust in the Child of the Forest apparent.
Lynd stared, his mind racing. The man’s face was unfamiliar, yet the sense of recognition grew stronger, as though so deep, forgotten mory was surfacing. He barely had ti to consider this when he felt a soft pressure against his leg.
Looking down, Lynd saw a Shadowcat cub brushing against his shin, rubbing itself against him as if scratching an itch. This cub was unlike its siblings. Its fur was white, with bold, dark black stripes, a stark contrast to the usual black coat of its kin. The albino cub exuded an almost regal majesty, but Lynd knew its coloration would make survival difficult. Its stark appearance would render it too conspicuous in the forest, whether as a predator or prey.
As the albino Shadowcat cub purred contentedly against Lynd's leg, its soft but audible sounds drew the attention of its mother. The adult Shadowcat’s keen instincts imdiately detected Lynd’s presence, even though he had taken care to remain hidden. With a low, nacing growl, the Shadowcat turned sharply toward Lynd’s position, her eyes narrowing as she swept her cubs protectively toward the Child of the Forest's feet.
The Shadowcat’s reaction put everyone on alert. The human beside the mound rose swiftly, drawing a long sword, while the Child of the Forest unsheathed an obsidian dagger. Her other hand hovered near a small pouch on her waist, clearly prepared to unleash sothing dangerous if necessary.
Realizing his presence was exposed, Lynd stepped out from his hiding spot. He did not draw his weapons, but his hand rested firmly on the hilt of his dual swords as a precaution. The albino cub trailed behind him, clinging to his feet as if seeking protection. Even the adult Shadowcat’s urgent growls could not persuade it to leave Lynd’s side.
Lynd ignored the cub for the mont and addressed the situation calmly. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not your enemy. I an no harm,” he said, his tone steady and non-threatening. He gestured toward the Shadowcat, its posture tense and ready to spring. “I followed it here because it took prey I killed.”
The Child of the Forest tilted her head, clearly understanding his words. Her expression shifted from anger to disapproval as she barked sharply at the Shadowcat in a lodic but firm language. The large cat recoiled slightly, grumbling in what could only be described as a sulky manner. However, it didn’t relax entirely, its teeth still bared in Lynd’s direction.
Before the Child of the Forest could question Lynd, the man standing beside her lowered his sword. He sheathed it with a smooth motion and gestured reassuringly toward the Child of the Forest. “It’s alright,” he said to her. “He’s not an enemy.” Then, turning his gaze to Lynd, he added with a faint smirk, “I didn’t expect to see you here. You’re moving far too slowly. I thought you’d already be in King’s Landing by now.”
Lynd blinked in surprise, thrown off by the man’s familiarity. Despite the man’s calm deanor and apparent knowledge of him, Lynd could not place him. His face and voice were entirely unfamiliar, yet that peculiar sense of recognition lingered, stronger than ever.
The contrast between this unfamiliarity and the undeniable familiarity nagged at him until a thought surfaced. Testing his theory, Lynd asked, “Are you the Faceless n from New Barrel?”
The middle-aged man’s smile widened slightly, a hint of amusent flickering in his expression. “Your perception is as sharp as ever. If your na had been on the list, I doubt I would have taken the assignnt,” he said with a nod.
Lynd studied the man carefully, noting the scars and wounds visible on his chest and abdon—evidence of a recent and grueling battle. “It seems your mission is complete,” Lynd observed, his tone neutral but pointed.
The Faceless Man glanced down at his injuries and gave a slight nod. “The process was… complicated, but yes, it’s done.”
Before the conversation could continue, the Child of the Forest tugged at the man’s clothing, as if to remind him of sothing important.
“Oh, yes, I forgot to introduce you,” said the middle-aged man warmly. “This is Spark, an old friend of mine. Thanks to her, I was able to survive this ti.” Gesturing toward Lynd, he added, “And this is Lynd, known as the Bear Hunter.”
“Are you Lynd, the Bear Hunter?” Spark, the Child of the Forest, asked in fluent Common as she turned to Lynd with a hint of surprise. Her tone and words suggested familiarity with the na.
Lynd bowed slightly and replied, “I never thought even a Child of the Forest would have heard of my na.”
“I heard the Song of the Bear Hunter sung by a bard in a village outside the forest,” Spark explained. She began humming the tune, her rendition in the Common tongue surpassing the universal version in resonance and depth. After finishing, she added, “I like this song very much, but you seem quite different from the Bear Hunter in the song.” She turned toward the Faceless n with a questioning look. “Is he really the Bear Hunter?”
“Yes, he is the Bear Hunter,” they affird. “But you must rember—legends often carry embellishnts and shouldn’t be taken literally.”
Spark didn’t seem particularly concerned about the accuracy of the song’s portrayal. Instead, her interest shifted to Lynd and the peculiar bond he seed to share with the Shadowcat cub.
She stepped closer, her gaze assessing, and circled Lynd twice. “You’re neither a Skinchanger nor a Greenseer, and you don’t have any magic. So why does this Shadowcat cub cling to you?”
As Spark spoke, the albino Shadowcat cub clung to Lynd’s leg, paws scrabbling as it tried to climb him. When its efforts failed, Lynd bent down and picked it up. The cub instantly quieted in his arms, exuding trust and affection.
In stark contrast, the other Shadowcats—both adults and cubs—remained openly hostile toward Lynd, their instincts unsoftened even under Spark’s influence. Their hostility lingered like an immutable fact of nature.
“I have no idea,” Lynd said, stroking the cub gently. His confusion mirrored the odd situation. He was certain, however, that this connection wasn’t rooted in his role as a Peacekeeper. None of his battle experiences involved animals. The answer, he suspected, might lie in his past life, though the specifics eluded him.
Spark’s curiosity waned after finding no satisfactory explanation. She turned her attention back to the Shadowcats, commanding them sternly. Reluctantly, the animals retreated, each carrying their cubs and gathered food into the treehouse nestled on the hill.
Lynd hesitated before grabbing the albino cub by the scruff and offering it to Spark. However, Spark made no move to take it. “Since it has chosen you, it’s yours to keep,” she declared.
She turned to the Faceless n. “The dicine’s effects will soon take hold, and your body will recover quickly. Our accounts are now fully settled. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, our accounts are settled,” the Faceless n nodded. Then, with a faint smile, added, “But let’s still remain friends, shall we?”
Spark’s response was resolute. “Friends don’t bring danger to friends. Don’t co looking for again. You’re always surrounded by trouble, and I don’t want to be dragged into it.”
With that, she turned and headed for her treehouse. As she reached the door, she paused and called over her shoulder, “If sothing like this happens again, co prepared with a gift worth my attention. Otherwise, don’t expect to co out.”
Then she closed the wooden door firmly behind her.
The Faceless n showed a wry smile at her parting words. A mont later, Lynd felt the ground tremble slightly, as if an earthquake had struck. He watched in awe as the treehouse slowly sank into the earth.
The ground leveled off, transforming into a flat adow. Grass sprouted rapidly, growing waist-high and erasing all traces of Spark’s dwelling.
Within monts, the place looked like an untouched expanse of wilderness, concealing the Child of the Forest’s ho entirely.
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