The forest welcomed her in silence as she moved among the trunks, brushing aside low-hanging branches while following the white figure ahead, its persistence difficult to measure. Filtering through the canopy, thin strips of light slid over her blonde hair, cooling its tones, while her clear eyes remained fixed forward, undistracted.
Appearing and disappearing among the trees, the rabbit paused just long enough to look back before moving on, always keeping the same distance, no matter how much she closed in.
Crunching beneath her steps, leaves lay scattered among roots and damp earth, the sound repeating with a rhythm that never quite matched her own. To one side stood a slanted trunk covered in moss, split by a dark crack; yet farther ahead, it appeared again without interruption, now on the opposite side, bearing the same shape and the same irregular opening.
Stopping once more between two trees, the rabbit lifted itself slightly. Something small hung from its neck, swaying just enough to catch the light before falling still. It didn't belong to him. Even so, when it moved again, it did so with the same natural ease, slipping between the trunks without hurry, as if certain she would continue following.
Crossing a clearing where the light fell more freely, she stepped forward as the ground gave way more than expected, only to recover beneath the same layer of dry leaves with the next step. Her gaze never wavered from the direction where the rabbit had vanished. Beyond that point, the forest began to close in, trees pressing closer together, shadows gathering between them as the light dimmed without fully disappearing.
Even so, a path still seemed to exist—or at least the sense of one.
Closer now, the rabbit appeared again among the trunks, the object beneath its neck moving with a rhythm that never quite aligned with hers. Without speeding up, she kept it in sight until it turned and slipped out of view, leaving behind a narrow stretch where the trees opened just enough to reveal the base of a much wider trunk.
Jutting from the ground, the roots twisted over one another as if forced outward, forming a dark hollow at the center, large enough for something small to hide within.
There, the rabbit disappeared.
Approaching without pause, she reached the edge and placed a hand against the rough wood, leaning in to look inside. The darkness was not uniform; it extended farther than the size of the trunk should allow, as though the space continued downward instead of closing.
Leaning a little further, she hesitated—
For a moment, something shifted behind her. Not a clear sound nor a defined movement, but a brief pressure against her back—enough to break her balance before she could react. Her foot slipped on the loose earth, and her body pitched forward, vanishing into the hollow as the roots remained behind and the light above shrank into an irregular opening.
Silence returned to the forest, motionless, as though nothing had happened.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the roots began to close over the hollow, sliding against one another until the opening disappeared completely, leaving behind only the unbroken bark of the trunk, as if it had always been whole.
Moments later, the rabbit emerged once more among the trees, pausing before the trunk. The object hanging from its neck swayed once, catching the light, before becoming still.
Then it turned and continued on.