Page 82 of The Moonborn's Curse

But her body didn't listen.

She ran.

She ran like the wind, the camera bouncing against her back, her feet tearing over root and rock.

Behind her, she could hear the bear ploughing after her, its huffing breath like thunder in her ears.

She spotted a tree just ahead, tall and wide-trunked, with a thick branch not far from the ground.

With a cry of effort, she leapt—grabbing, scrambling, pulling herself up just as the bear lunged.

A claw swept past her ankle, missing her by inches.

He reared on his hind legs, roaring with frustration, snapping his jaws inches from the bark.

For one heart-pounding second, she thought he would climb.

But instead, the bear dropped heavily to all fours and sat, head tilted.

She clutched the branch, heart thudding so hard it hurt, legs shaking.

Her camera was still around her neck.

Still safe.

Then—she felt it.

Something under the terror.

Something... human.

She blinked.

The bear's eyes weren't just wild.

For a second, they were aware.

A strange ripple passed through the air.

And in her mind—like a whisper too soft for ears—she heard words.

"Help... hungry... alone..."

She froze.

He was speaking.

Not with lips. Not with a mouth.

But she felt the words.

Not a shifter. Not really.

A Forgotten.

One of those who had regressed into their animal form—either by force, trauma, or loss—and could no longer turn back.

Neither fully man nor fully beast.

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