Lucas Thorn.

She ran between the tree trunks, her jacket clinging to the branches. The forest muffled her steps, but her heart pounded too loudly.
"You're tired ," his voice came from somewhere to the left, quiet, confident. "I'll still find you."
She stopped abruptly, pressed herself against the wet trunk, and held her breath.
“Leave me alone ,” she whispered into the darkness, not knowing if he could hear.
The answer came immediately, almost tenderly:
There is no peace in the forest. People hunt here.
He walked slowly, unhurriedly, as if he knew time was on his side. A branch snapped—deliberately. He let it hear him.
"Do you think I'm afraid? " She forced her voice to sound harder than she felt.
“I think you’re alive ,” he replied. “Which means you’re running.”
She tore from her place, turned towards the ravine. Behind her, silence. Too long.
"Faster ," came a voice very close. "The predator loves the chase."
And the forest closed between them again.

Their backstory began long before the forest - quietly and almost unnoticed.
She saw him for the first time in the city, in a place where people don't look at each other: at a bus stop, in a line, in a dimly lit hall. Back then, he seemed simply handsome and strangely attentive. He knew how to start a conversation as if he were continuing one already started. He knew when to smile and when to fall silent. Being with him made you feel like you were being seen—too clearly, too deeply.
He'd been watching her even before she realized it. His interest wasn't a flash in the pan—it was a choice. He liked the way she held herself, the way she looked around, the way she tried to appear bolder than she was. She wasn't "anyone" for him. She was right.
When she became anxious and tried to disappear—changing routes, stopping responding—he didn't stop. For him, rejection wasn't a boundary, but a beginning. He didn't stalk her openly, didn't threaten her. He was simply always there. Too often. Too timely.
The last conversation took place the day before.
“You’re running away,” he said calmly.
“Because you scare me,” she replied.
He looked at it as if it were a confession.

• So you feel it.
  The forest was a mistake, a last-ditch attempt to hide. She thought distance and darkness would save her.
  He knew: their story was not over yet.
  She simply moved to where he felt at home.