Something Grows Amongst the Trees (Closed for Mr_Positive)

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan listened, frozen in place, as her words sank in. His gaze dropped to the table, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his coffee mug as he processed what she was telling him. A summons. Just by saying her name, he had pulled her away from whatever she’d been doing—important things, apparently—and dragged her here. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but that didn’t make the reality of it any less jarring.

“I... didn’t know,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual, tinged with genuine regret. “I didn’t mean to take you away from anything. I didn’t even think it was possible to... summon someone like that.” He looked back up at her, his expression earnest and open, though tinged with a nervous energy.

“You’re right, though. I don’t know your ways. I don’t know the rules or... or what’s respectful and what’s not in your world. But I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I just—” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, searching for the right words. “I just liked the way your name sounded. It stuck with me, I guess. I didn’t realize saying it out loud would do... this.”

He gestured vaguely between them, indicating her sudden appearance at his table. For a moment, he just sat there, awkward and uncertain, until the silence grew unbearable.

“I’ll try not to do it again,” he promised, leaning forward slightly. “I mean it. You said names carry weight. I get that now... at least, I think I do. I’ll be more careful.” His brow furrowed as a thought struck him. “But, uh... what do I do if I have to talk about you? I mean, what if I’m telling someone about what happened here? Or... or asking someone if they’ve heard of you?”

His words came in a rush, as though he were trying to make up for his earlier mistake by asking all the right questions now. “Is there some kind of... I don’t know, nickname I can use? Or something else I can call you that won’t... you know... bring you here?”

He fell silent again, realizing how ridiculous he probably sounded. Here he was, sitting in a cabin in the middle of the forest, asking a mythical being for permission to use a nickname like she was some kind of coworker. But even through his embarrassment, his curiosity lingered. There was so much he didn’t know about her, about the forest, about this whole strange world he’d stumbled into.

“Look,” he said after a pause, his tone softer now, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to bother you, and I don’t want to... make your life harder or whatever. But if I’m gonna keep living here, I guess I’d better figure out how to not screw things up any worse.”

He hesitated, his hands folding together on the table. “So... yeah. If there’s anything else I need to know—rules, boundaries, anything—I’m all ears.”​

 

[Poprockz]

He liked her name? She supposed it was indeed a good name, but she wasn't sure why his statement made her feel a small flush of pride over it.

Her eyes drifted to his coffee mug as he spoke, drawn to the movements of his fingers. She had never gotten the chance to try the liquid, but often the stuff that was brewed over a campfire smelled rather bitter and burnt. It wasn't as though she was averse to bitterness if something had an enjoyable, complex flavor, but she definitely gravitated towards things that were sweet like berries and honey. The fae came together every solstice to dance and make merry, including eating delicious foods like grapes and sweet wine, but she had always been curious about the sweet things that the humans created. She had witnessed them roasting soft little white confections and eating them with bricks of dark brown and crunchy biscuits, but that was about the extent of her human dessert knowledge.

That reminded her- she shouldn't forget to stop by the beehive today, as bees had notoriously short memories and might not let her have any honey tomorrow.

"Illy." The woman spoke as she looked up from his coffee mug, "you may call me Illy. You are welcome to research me, but I doubt you will find many written records of me, if any. That being said, I would appreciate if you did not speak of me to others- I am already uncomfortable with how much you and I have already interacted."

She scratched her arm, a cascade of now almost-dry mud schluffing off of her skin. While she wasn't being hostile, she was obviously still very wary of him. One might say that she was like a bird ready to flutter away with a flap over wings at the first movement it saw nearby.

When he had been unconscious, the nymph had gotten a good look at his face but his eyes had been closed at the time. Now that they were open, she found that his face (already very handsome) was much better with them on display. They shined with an earnestness she rarely saw and she couldn't help but want to continue to study his features.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan sat in silence for a moment, turning her words over in his mind. "Illy," he said softly, testing it out. The nickname felt strange and intimate on his tongue, but it carried a kind of warmth too, like it belonged in the quiet of this cabin. He nodded almost to himself. "Alright. Illy, it is."

He glanced down at his coffee mug, his fingers now still against its ceramic surface. Her gaze had been drawn to it earlier, and he found himself wondering what she thought about such a mundane thing. Did she drink coffee? Did she even know what it was? For someone so tied to the forest, it probably seemed like an odd, human indulgence. He caught himself before asking her about it; he wasn’t sure if she’d take kindly to more questions right now.

"I won’t tell anyone," he said finally, lifting his eyes back to hers. They were sharp and guarded, but there was something else there too, something softer that made him tread carefully. "I mean, who would I even tell? People don’t exactly believe in things like... well, you. Fae. Nymphs. Whatever name you’d prefer."

He leaned back slightly in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "And even if I did say something, I’m not sure I’d want to. This place... this whole thing... it feels personal, you know? Like it’s mine to figure out—or ours, I guess, since you’re... the forest." He gave a small, self-conscious laugh, realizing how ridiculous he must sound. "Anyway, yeah. Your secret’s safe with me."

His gaze drifted back to the table as he considered her last comment. Uncomfortable with how much you and I have already interacted. He frowned, chewing on the edge of his lip. "Look, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable," he said, his voice quieter now. "I’m not here to mess with your life or... whatever you’ve got going on. I’m just..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

"I’m just trying to figure out where I fit," he admitted, almost more to himself than to her. "Out here, away from everything... I thought it’d be simpler, you know? But then you showed up, and now it’s like..." He shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his lips. "I don’t know. It’s not simpler, that’s for sure."

He looked up at her again, his expression softer, almost curious. "Why does it matter so much if we interact? I mean, I get that you’re not used to humans, but... you don’t seem like you hate us. You haven’t drowned me or cursed me or anything, so..." He shrugged. "I guess I just don’t see the harm in a conversation."​

 

[Poprockz]

She had nodded in satisfaction when he agreed not to speak of her to others. Though she could never be sure that his words were true, something about the way he said it made her believe him. The whole thing about something to figure out made her a bit confused though. There was nothing to "figure out" between the two of them, as she assumed they would coexist without crossing paths too much in the future.

The nymph looked to the trees for a moment, her pointed ears twitching briefly. It seemed as though the forest was quite curious why she was lingering here rather than coming back to its embrace. It could wait for her to finish, the impatient thing. Her eyes turned back to him and she spoke deliberately, not wanting to offend him nor encourage him. "I do not find you... unpleasant. However, I do not trust your kind. Something that significantly distinguishes humans from... beings like myself is that while I am unfailingly compelled to always speak true, your kind can lie. "

"One day we might have a pleasant conversation, and the next I could be in a cage, unable to tend to the forest. Without me, the forest will become diseased and corruptible." While she didn't elaborate further on this point, it was obvious from her steady, serious gaze that there were far greater implications of this. In truth, nymphs did many things in the forest to keep it healthy and happy, including keeping away malevolent forces that sought to find some sort of anchor into this plane. Without a forest's keeper, the forest would become home to things of a frightful and opportunistic nature. Shadows in the trees that watched with hungry, hateful eyes.

The nymph stood from the table, though she didn't leave just yet, waiting for his response.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan watched her rise, her deliberate movements holding a grace that contrasted sharply with the unease her words stirred within him. He felt the weight of what she had said pressing against his chest, heavy and undeniable. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. The idea of her trapped, the forest dying in her absence, filled him with an unexpected sense of dread.

"I wouldn’t do that," he said softly, his voice steady but laced with something close to hurt. His gaze followed hers briefly toward the trees, then back to her. "I mean, I get it. I know my kind doesn’t exactly have the best track record with... well, anything we can get our hands on. But that’s not who I am."

He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, his coffee forgotten. "I came out here to get away from that. From people who’d put something beautiful in a cage just because they could. I’m not..." He shook his head, his voice growing firmer. "I’m not that guy. I don’t want to hurt you, or the forest, or whatever it is that makes this place work."

For a moment, he looked down at the table, tracing a grain in the wood with his finger. "You’re right, though," he admitted. "Humans lie. We can be cruel, greedy, selfish. I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve probably done it." He looked back up at her, his jaw tightening. "But I also know we’re not all like that. And I swear to you, Illy, I’m not like that. Whatever trust you’re giving me by talking to me now... I won’t betray it."

He straightened in his chair, his expression softening as he studied her. He found himself wanting to reassure her, to prove to her that not every human deserved the distrust she carried. But he knew words alone wouldn’t be enough.

"I know it’s going to take more than me saying it," he added after a moment, his tone gentler now. "But if there’s anything I can do to prove to you that you don’t need to worry about me, just say the word. I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But... I’d rather figure out how we can coexist, like you said. Maybe even get to the point where you don’t have to watch me so closely every time I open my mouth."

He gave her a small, almost tentative smile, leaning back in his chair as if to show he wasn’t a threat. "I get it, though. You’ve got a forest to protect, and I’m just some guy living on the edge of it. You don’t owe me anything. But for what it’s worth... I think this place is better with you in it. Safer. Stronger."

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, his smile turning wry. "I mean, the fact that I’m still standing after everything says a lot. You could’ve turned me into a toad or something by now, but you didn’t. So... thanks for that."

He wasn’t sure if she’d respond, but he felt compelled to add, "And for what it’s worth, I hope one day you’ll see I’m not all bad. Or at least not bad enough to stick me in the 'distrust on sight' category." He gestured faintly toward her. "Even if you’re still deciding what you think about me, I think you’re..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I think you’re doing a hell of a job looking out for the forest. And I respect that."

He let his words hang there, unsure if she’d find them sincere or dismiss them entirely. But if there was one thing Ethan had learned out here, it was that sometimes you just had to speak the truth and hope it found its way.​

 

[Poprockz]

He seemed genuine, but if lies always rang false then no one would be fooled by them. She wanted to believe him, though. His voice and words had softened her guarded heart somewhat, and she thought to herself that perhaps he simply was just a man in the woods spending his time drawing and mumbling.

Her eyes drifted to a berry on the table, left over from when she had given him the note. It still looked to be fresh, so she reached over, grabbed it, and popped it into her mouth. It was sweet, and she let the taste linger on her tongue as he finished up what he was saying.

The man seemed to have a penchant for rambling, though she found it rather... cute, perhaps? Once he got started, it was as though all his thoughts came one after another without too much of a filter, like a stream without a dam. Another fae might have been offended at his compliments regarding her tending to the forest, seeing as he knew next to nothing about what she did or didn't do, but she saw it more as an effort on his part to foster good-will.

"If your actions match your words, I think you'll find the forest to be a very hospitable place for you, traveler" she mused, turning to leave. The nymph said no more, simply leaving things with that simple response. While Illuvian didn't know his name, it was of little importance at this point. They had made peace, and so things would now go back to the way they were before- the way they had always been. She intended to visit him from time to time, but merely as a shifting of grass in the breeze or the shimmer of dew on the flowers. A pair of curious eyes to observe him and hopefully one day see the drawings in his notebook.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan watched her as she turned, her simple parting words lingering in the air between them. If your actions match your words... That sentence settled deep within him, like an unspoken challenge—a promise he didn’t yet fully know how to keep but was determined to try. The nymph, or Illy as she’d allowed him to call her, seemed to exist as a tether between the unknowable and the tangible, and the thought of her fading back into the forest without knowing who he was didn’t sit right with him.

“Wait,” he said, the word spilling out before he could stop himself. He didn’t move, didn’t rise or lean forward, but the steady sincerity in his voice filled the space she occupied. “My name’s Ethan. Ethan Mercer.”

He paused, letting it linger in case she cared to hear it—an offering, like a bridge he was trying to build between them. “You didn’t ask for it, and I get that it probably doesn’t mean much to you... but I wanted you to have it anyway. You gave me your name, and that seems like a bigger deal than I realized at the time. I guess it’s only fair.”

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar gesture of nervousness, though his voice stayed even. “Look, I know you’ve probably got better things to do than listen to me talk—I’m really good at rambling, if you hadn’t noticed—but... I meant what I said. I don’t want to be some shadow at the edge of your forest. I’d rather... I don’t know, coexist, like you said. So if you’ve got any questions—about me, about why I’m here, or just humans in general—ask me. I’ll answer. I want to answer.”

He gave a small, lopsided smile, trying not to let the quiet feel too heavy. “Call it me trying to earn a little trust. You probably know everything there is to know about this place, but I figure there’s not much you can learn about me unless I tell you. And, well, I don’t mind sharing.”

Ethan settled back into his chair, picking up his now-lukewarm coffee mug but making no move to drink from it. He didn’t expect her to turn back around or even to respond; she seemed too... ephemeral for that, like she could vanish at any second into the mist and moss. But he wanted her to know he’d spoken his name freely—not as a summons, but as a gesture. A choice.

“I’ll be here if you ever feel like taking me up on it,” he added softly, almost to himself.​

 

[Poprockz]

The woman paused when he called after her, listening to what he had to say.

Were she a more malevolent being, the words '..Ethan Mercer. You didn’t ask for it, and I get that it probably doesn’t mean much to you... but I wanted you to have it anyway.' might have given her license to literally take his name from him. Telling a fae that you were "giving" them your name was like putting a 'free' sign on a flat-screen tv and leaving in a populous area. Many fae would gleefully take advantage of this, and the next moment the person wouldn't remember what their own name was. When others spoke it, it would sound like nonsense and its written form would look like scribbles to the individual, completely stripped of the first gift they were given after coming into the world.

Illy was not malevolant though, so she simply took note of it. Ethan... it seemed to fit him well. A softer name that still retained its masculinity. They were no longer strangers, having traded names, which meant that she could no longer completely ignore him.

Her head turned to the side enough that he could see that her lips were curled up in a little smile. "I will politely decline taking your name from you, but I will surely remember it, Ethan." She wasn't going to promise that she would come to him and ask him questions about himself. That was something she wasn't sure of. Perhaps she would someday when the curiosity got the better of her, but for now she wanted to observe the content of his character before committing to anything.

The nymph's hair swished side-to-side as she started walking again, making her way into the tree-line before disappearing again. Over the next week she didn't reveal herself to him again, though there were times where she would check in on him to see what he was up to.

Sometimes as she walked through the woods she would find her mind drifting to him. What would she ask him if given the chance? Why did he want her to know more about him? What was his aim in trying to become friends with her? His motives weren't clear, especially since he didn't seem to have any goals or ventures. He just.. wandered. She wandered as well, but her wandering had a purpose, his seemed more like the steps of a man who didn't know where he needed to go.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan sat alone at the table, staring into the woods long after she had gone. His coffee had turned cold, the taste forgotten as his mind wandered far beyond the forest’s edge. Her parting words hung in the air: "I will surely remember it, Ethan." There was something about the way she’d said his name that stirred a faint warmth in his chest, though it was fleeting. Her departure left a quiet that he couldn’t quite ignore, and in its stillness, his thoughts turned inward.

He hadn’t spoken Mia’s name aloud in weeks—not since her funeral. The memory of her felt heavy now, like the forest itself pressing down on him. They had shared a love for the wilderness, for the stillness and beauty of places untouched by the chaos of the world. She had called it their sanctuary, their escape from the grind of careers and deadlines, the endless swirl of human noise. It was supposed to be safe.

Ethan closed his eyes, his fingers tightening around the mug as if bracing against the memory. He could still see her—dark curls pinned back under a baseball cap, the sun catching on her freckled cheeks as she laughed, teasing him about how slow he was on the trail. They’d planned the hike for weeks, pouring over maps and reading up on trail conditions. It was supposed to be an adventure. It wasn’t supposed to be the last time he’d ever see her alive.

The fall had been fast, brutal, and unforgiving. One misstep on loose gravel, one moment of bad luck. He hadn’t even heard her scream—just the echo of rocks tumbling into a gorge too deep to see the bottom. By the time he climbed down to her, she was gone, her body as still as the air around them.

He had carried that stillness with him ever since.

Coming to the forest wasn’t a choice, not really. He hadn’t been able to return to their apartment, to the life they had built together. Every corner of it whispered her absence—the books she left half-read, the plants she watered too often, the faint scent of her favorite tea still lingering in the kitchen cabinets. The city felt suffocating, a constant reminder of what he’d lost. So he ran, seeking refuge among the trees, in a place where no one knew him and no one asked questions. A place where he could be anonymous, where the silence of the woods might one day drown out the silence she’d left behind.

But even here, Mia’s ghost followed him. Every rustling leaf, every whisper of wind, every break in the canopy that let sunlight stream through—he saw her in all of it. He wasn’t sure if the forest was healing him or haunting him, but it was the only place he felt close to her. It was why he’d stayed.

Ethan opened his eyes and exhaled slowly. The nymph—Illy, he corrected himself—had been right about one thing. His steps were aimless. He didn’t know where he was going because he didn’t know where he belonged anymore. The forest had become his refuge, but it wasn’t a home. It wasn’t hers.

And yet, for the first time in months, he felt something like hope stirring in the corners of his grief. The forest wasn’t just trees and shadows—it had a heartbeat, a guardian. And now, Ethan realized, it had a witness. Someone who knew his name and had chosen to remember it.

He spoke softly to the empty air, almost as if testing the sound of it. “Mia,” he whispered, the name catching in his throat. It didn’t feel like a summons, just a release, a tethered thought finally let loose. His gaze drifted back to the treeline where Illy had vanished, and for the first time in a long time, Ethan felt the smallest flicker of curiosity about what might come next.​

 

[Poprockz]

Illy was sitting in a tree near the path Ethan often took, investigating a bird's nest when she heard him coming down the trail. The eggs in the nest were broken and black, oozing with thick, black goo... the shells seemed to be tainted by something that did not belong in the forest, and it gave her a bad feeling. Her eyebrows pinched in concern, but she looked up as she saw him coming over a small hill in the path.

She observed when out of nowhere, a bear cub crossed onto the path and then the other. One playfully swatted at the other before they both noticed Ethan and looked at him curiously. Bears weren't necessarily common in these parts- likely the bears were simply passing through the area, she figured.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan froze mid-step, his boots crunching the gravel path as his eyes locked on the two bear cubs. They had appeared so suddenly it was as if the forest itself had conjured them. One was swatting at the other, its movements clumsy and playful, but their curiosity about him was clear. Their round eyes focused on him, heads tilting slightly as if trying to decide whether he was friend or foe.

"Okay," Ethan whispered to himself, raising his hands slowly. "This is fine. They’re just... little bears. Cute, even. No big deal."

But as he shifted his weight back to take a cautious step away, a deep, guttural growl rumbled through the trees. His stomach dropped. He didn’t need to see her to know the mother bear was close.

The growl came again, louder this time, and from the corner of his eye, he caught movement in the dense underbrush. The mother bear emerged, her massive frame cutting a shadow through the filtered sunlight. Her fur was dark and thick, her eyes sharp and protective as she took in the sight of her cubs and the man standing too close for comfort.

Ethan’s breath hitched. “Oh no. Nope. This is not fine.”

The bear huffed, her muscles tensing as she took a step forward. The cubs scampered to her side, still curious but now sticking close to their mother. Ethan knew enough about wildlife to understand the situation he was in—this wasn’t just dangerous; it was potentially lethal. A mother bear with cubs was one of the most unpredictable and aggressive animals in the wild.

He took a slow step back, his hands still raised. "Easy, big girl," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly. "I’m not here to mess with your kids. Just passing through, I swear."

The bear didn’t seem reassured. She let out another warning growl, her massive paws crunching the ground as she advanced. Ethan’s pulse pounded in his ears. He needed to think, and fast. Running was out of the question—she’d be on him in seconds if he turned his back. Playing dead? That only worked sometimes, and he wasn’t keen to test his luck.

His mind raced to Illy. The thought of calling her made his chest tighten. What if she was busy? What if this was one of those crucial moments where the forest needed her, and he pulled her away for something as selfish as saving his own skin?

"Dammit, Ethan," he muttered under his breath. His hands trembled slightly, but he forced himself to stay calm. The bear was watching him closely now, every move scrutinized. "You’re really going to die here because you’re too polite to ask for help?"

Another growl shattered his thoughts, and Ethan swallowed hard. He could feel the tension in the air, the forest holding its breath.​

 

[Poprockz]

Her eyes widened as she watched the mother come into view, knowing that this could turn into a very bad encounter for him. She waited for him to call for her, knowing that her name would at least stall the bear enough that she could get out of the tree and come to mediate things. However, her name never came, and she felt her stomach drop as the large animal prepared to teach him a painful lesson. She had to get there fast, or Ethan would simply be the name of a human she once briefly knew.

There was the sound of a falcon’s screech before the flutter of wings followed. The bird had swooped down at tremendous speed, holding itself in mid-air between Ethan and the bear. The next moment, its shape changed and the nymph’s now human feet delicately lighted upon the forest floor once more.

She held up her arms in a calming gesture and spoke in a language Ethan couldn’t understand. The generality of the conversation was easy to pick up though. Illy had said that the bear shouldn’t attack this man, and the bear had looked at her with annoyance and incredulity. It huffed, raising itself on its hind legs to glower at Ethan over Illy’s head. There was a sigh from the nymph before she said something else, the bear’s ears twitching and its attitude seeming to improve. Or at least it didn’t seem as angry. It licked its lips before leaning forward and letting itself back onto its front paws. There was another huff, this one seemingly of resignation before the mother trudged off with her cubs. They took one last lingering look at the human before scampering off again ahead of their mom.

Illuvian watched them go before turning to him with narrowed eyes. Her hands went to her hips in much the same way a mother would who was preparing to unleash a scolding. “Is there something wrong with your mouth today? Perhaps your tongue ran away in the middle of the night?” She asked in an irritated tone.

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan exhaled sharply as the bear lumbered off, his hands still raised as if the massive creature might change its mind and come charging back. His knees felt unsteady, and his breath came in shallow, uneven gulps. He turned to Illy just as she planted her hands on her hips, her expression sharp enough to cut through steel. Her words hit him like a slap, her tone dripping with exasperation.

“Well, excuse me for trying not to bother you while you’re out doing... whatever it is you do!” Ethan shot back, his voice taut with adrenaline. “I didn’t exactly have time to draft a polite invitation to come save my life!”

He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair, the tension still radiating through his body. “And for the record,” he added, his voice lowering slightly, “I didn’t call because I thought maybe—just maybe—you might be doing something more important than dealing with me being too dumb to back off from a bear cub.”

He glanced at the spot where the bear and her cubs had disappeared into the trees, then back at her, his irritation melting into something closer to guilt. “Look,” he said, softer now. “I didn’t mean to... make this your problem. I thought I could handle it, and obviously, I couldn’t. So, yeah. My bad.”

He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head. “Next time I’ll scream your name like a damsel in distress. Sound good?”​

 

[Poprockz]

“Ethan!” she said sharply before sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

Her eyes were keen, as was her judgement most times. He hadn’t been refraining from using her name due to his ego or the very false impression that he could handle it himself, even if he might have said so. It had been obvious to her that he was under no illusions; he knew that he wouldn't have been able to handle it if things had devolved. The look of fear on his face at the first growl told her all she needed to know, namely that he had been thinking about the very real possibility of being dismembered.

It frustrated her that it had occurred to him to use her name, but hadn't done so. He could have died if she hadn't been nearby to put a halt to things.

In truth, she ascertained that he had been concerned that she had been doing something important, and hadn’t wanted to interfere. He might have also been leery of calling upon her after having gotten on her nerves last time. She had thought that he understood what she meant regarding her name and that he would use his best judgement, but it seemed she needed to clarify.

Her voice softened and she tried to have a little heart-to-heart with him, taking a step closer so she could make herself clear. “Ethan… nothing is more important than saving a life. If for some reason you find yourself fearing for your life, please call upon me. If I am in the middle of saving another life, at the very least it will buy you time in most situations. My true name is only known to one living human, which means that animals will wait until I am there to mediate if you invoke it."

There was a little bit of hesitation before her gaze turned somber, a quietness coming to her tone. "I do not wish to be so frightening that you would rather face death than risk angering me. I may get... frustrated at times, but I do not seek to punish you."

 

[Mr_Positive]

Ethan stood frozen for a moment, her words settling over him like the aftermath of a storm. He hadn’t expected her tone to soften—it was far easier when she was just irritated with him. That, at least, was something he could brace against. But this? This calm, almost vulnerable honesty? It left him floundering for a response.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes darting to the forest floor as he tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, he let out a long breath and said, “Look, Illy… I get it. I do. And I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet, but steady. “I didn’t think you’d want me calling for you over something stupid. And yeah, maybe I figured I’d already burned through whatever goodwill you had left for me.”

He glanced up at her, his expression apologetic but tinged with something else—reluctance, maybe, or shame. “It’s not that I don’t believe you’d help. It’s just… I didn’t want to be the guy who drags you away from something important just because I made a bad call.”

Ethan hesitated, then ran a hand down his face. “I didn’t think I was going to die, okay? I mean, I knew it wasn’t good, but…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I guess I didn’t think it through. Obviously.”

He let out a humorless laugh and looked back at her. “For what it’s worth, I appreciate you stepping in. Really. I’ll try to… I don’t know, be smarter about it next time. And if it gets bad, I’ll call. I promise.”

His voice softened, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. “I wasn’t trying to be stubborn or… or anything like that. I just didn’t want to screw up and make you hate me more than you probably already do.”​