Yao Yao hesitated, glancing between the lake and the fox. Static still clung to the air, arcs snapping through the grass beneath her. Her throat went dry. She scrambled up the slope on all fours, half-crawling until she reached the log where the fox sat.
The fox didn't move to help. He only watched, lids half-lowered.
In the dim light his fur carried a muted sheen, soft and sleek, in a way that seemed to lie flat no matter how the wind might ruffle it. His eyes, narrow and angled, showed sharpness.
Behind him, three tails lay neatly. One looped around his front paws, another stretched along the length of the log, while the last swayed in a slow rhythm as though following a tune only he could hear. And on his forehead, just above the eyes, a faint mark shimmered—a crescent moon with a cursive infinity loop at its tip. It pulsed once, then faded.
Too unusual to be an ordinary animal. More likely a spirit than a mere fox.
Well. He seemed harmless.
Yao Yao tugged her sleeves tighter around herself and sat a little farther on the log, putting a distance between them. Her eyes darted back to the water, sparks still snapping across the grass in uneven bursts.
"What are they?" she whispered.
The fox didn't look at her, his eyes staring straight at the leaping shapes below.
"They're called Sylth," he said. "They feed on whatever they can catch. Sometimes animals. Sometimes spirits. You're lucky they're not fully grown."
Yao Yao's jaw dropped. She raised a trembling finger at the lake. "Not fully grown? They're already huge and fat and terrifying! What are they supposed to be when they're fully grown, sea dragons?!"
The fox turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing just a touch. "You're not fully grown either."
Yao Yao froze mid-gesture, finger still stabbing the air. "That's rude. I am still growing."
His gaze slid back to the Sylth as though she hadn't spoken. "They molt every few seasons. That's when they get bigger."
Her frown deepened. Bigger. Always bigger. Must everything in this world be stronger, older, or bigger just to matter?
She fidgeted slightly on the log, clenching her teeth. Then her eyes slid sideways to the fox, who hadn't moved, still wearing that same unreadable look. "Why are you here? Do you live here? Is this your nest? Are you some kind of electric-eel whisperer?" she asked.
The fox tilted his head, one ear flicking. "Is that one question, or four?"
"…" Yao Yao puffed her cheeks. "It's one and four."
"Mm. I don't live here. They're not mine." His ears tipped forward, eyes sliding her way with a flicker of curiosity. "And what's an electric-eel whisperer?"
"Err..."
Before she could answer, the fox moved. In one fluid motion, he came onto all fours, the log groaning a little under his weight. His body carried a predator's grace, smooth yet weighted with strength. He leaned in, nose angling toward her until it felt like he was sniffing the air around her.
Yao Yao gasped in surprise. Instinctively, she pulled back a little, pressing her palms against the damp wood of the log. Her shoulders tensed, fearing a wrong move might set him off.
"You're not from here," he remarked.
A twitch moved through his ears once, then again, as if he heard a sound she could not. He kept his gaze fixed on her, carefully observing her face. At the same time, his three tails tapped on the log in sequence, like a slow drumbeat.
"You're human."
Yao Yao arched a brow. "Of course I'm a human. What else would I be?"
The fox's nose wrinkled. He leaned in again, drawing a quick, sharp sniff, as though something about her didn't quite fit.
She edged away. "Okay—seriously. Stop doing that."
"I've read about your kind," he murmured. "Saw sketches once, in a book left behind by one of the old dreamers. Small creatures with fragile limbs, round heads, and flat faces. They called them… 'children.'"
He took a step closer, lowered his head, and narrowed his eyes as he regarded her from the corner of his gaze. The look carried no threat—more curiosity than malice. "I heard that only the ancients are born looking like this. Are you an ancient?"
Yao Yao frowned and shook her head. "I'm not an ancient."
"They say those spirits came from old lines," he went on, ignoring her response. "Lines with… connections to the human realm. Long ago, before everything split… before the borders closed."
He paused briefly, as if reaching for words half-remembered. "Ancients walked beneath both skies. Neither born nor summoned. Simply… here."
Yao Yao tilted her head. "…Huh?"
"I read it in a book," the fox said pointedly. "It had illustrations."
He sniffed again at her scent, looking somewhat distracted. "The book said spirits like me are born from place. Water, stone, wind, animals. But ones like you? You're not born from this realm. You're born into it."
"That makes no sense."
He shrugged. "That's what the book said."
They stared at each other for a long beat.
Yao Yao let out a sharp sigh, her head throbbing faintly from the exchange. "Actually, I should go. Before those things come back."
The fox's ears twitched. "What things?"
"You know." She gestured vaguely at the water. "The eels."
He blinked at her. "…Eels?"
"Yeah. Long, slippery, jumpy bodies. That's an eel, right?"
"That's called Sylth. I don't know what an 'eel' is."
"Well I don't know what a Sylth is!"
"Sylth are beings of this world. Born from it, like the mist."
"Born from it?"
"Yeah. They're born from it." he said, tilting his head slightly. "But you're born into it."
Yao Yao stared at him, puzzled. This didn't feel like a conversation. More like a spirit textbook being read aloud to her. The words circled round and round without meaning, leaving her even more exhausted than before.
Quietly, she exhaled through her nose, brushing her palms hard against her skirt as if dusting the whole subject off herself. She'd had enough of talking.
"Forget it," she muttered. She straightened her damp sleeves and turned away. "I'm leaving."
The fox remained silent as he stood watching her. He leapt down from the log softly, landing without making a sound. His three tails swayed in unison while he gazed at her back as she walked farther away.
***
Yao Yao kept walking. There was no human path, only patches where the shadows thinned, where the darkness felt a shade lighter. She followed those openings without thinking, hoping they might lead her closer to an exit. Her steps dragged on mindlessly, each one carrying her deeper into the forest, though she wasn't even sure where.
Back to the cavern? Nope, she couldn't remember the way.
It was painfully clear by now that she wasn't cut out for this spirit business. She'd nearly been fried alive by a lake of overgrown toddler-eels and clashed with three different spirits, each leaving her frustrated in their own way.
By now, it didn't even feel like bad luck anymore. It felt as though her fate and the spirits' were written to clash from the very start.
A humorless huff slipped out.
Forget it. Spirit contracting is overrated anyway. Spirit labor is the way forward.
She would return to the human world, forget the whole mess, and build her fortune as a magic merchant. Maybe hire a few flying spirits and start a magic airline. Why risk her neck chasing after emotionally unstable spirits when she could just employ them instead?
Her thoughts had nearly convinced her when a faint sound made her pause.
Crunch.
She turned sharply.
The fox stood on the path behind her as if he'd been there all along, his face held the same calm as before.
"…Why are you following me?"
He tilted his head. "I'm not sure."
"…You're not sure?"
"It just felt like the right thing to do. For children."
Yao Yao blinked, then rubbed her forehead. "Okay. No offense. I may look like one, but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Thank you for saving me, but I really need to go."
"Go where?"
She stood there for a beat, staring at the dark forest ahead like it might offer a clue. Nothing. Her legs had been moving purely out of obligation, not direction.
The fox flicked an ear. "You don't know where you're going."
"I do," she replied quickly. "…Sort of."
Then under her breath, "Okay not at all."
"You're going the wrong way."
She stared around the darkness. "Then which way is out?"
"The only way out is in."
Her brow furrowed. "What does that even mean?"
The fox hopped over a root and landed softly. He walked a few steps in a direction different from where she was heading, then stopped and looked back at her. "You need to go to the inner forest," he said.
She shook her head. "I just want to leave the forest."
"You can't. This forest is governed by an ancient," the fox said simply. "Once you step into his territory, you can't leave unless he allows it."
"…What?"
"He's old. Quiet. But he sees everything here. The trees, the ground, the air… it all listens to him. If you want to leave, you'll need his permission."
There was a silence.
Then Yao Yao threw her hands on her waist in a fit. "Of course! Of course the forest has a landlord! Why wouldn't it?!"
The fox blinked mildly, then kept walking. After another few paces, he stopped and turned, as if waiting for her to catch up. "This is the right way."
Yao Yao let out a long, exhausted sigh, shoulders slumping.
"So…" she murmured, her footsteps heavy as she followed him "This ancient spirit you mentioned… does he throw icicles or hurl fire when he's mad?"
The fox frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Why would he do that?"
"No reason. Just checking."