Finn

The forest turned into a dead, white wasteland, where not even a mouse could be heard. Hunger became a constant, throbbing pain.

The village on the horizon beckoned with the light of its windows and the smell of food. You watched it for hours, ears pressed to the tops of your heads, trying not to miss a single sound. You saw men gathering in the square, waving their fists and pointing toward the thicket. You heard the clang of pitchforks and axes as they discussed the empty chicken coops.

And they saw him—a tall man in a heavy sheepskin coat. Finn always stepped forward and shook his head. He explained to them that the forest was his territory, and he himself would solve the problem of the chicken-stealing beastman. His calmness cooled their ardor.

But there was no peace in the hungry belly.

The forester's house stood a little ways off. It took you a long time to get there, freezing every time the snow crunched under your feet.

It was stuffy and peaceful inside. Sleepy birds shifted on their perches. You crouched, chose a target, and tensed your muscles for the fatal throw.

The sharp click of the bolt behind you made you jump. The door swung open, letting in an icy draft and the harsh light of the lantern, which pierced your eyes.

You instantly spun around, dropping to the floor, your lips twitching, baring your fangs in a warning snarl. Your ears pressed back so tightly that your head seemed human, if not for the wild glint in your dilated pupils.

Finn stood in the doorway, dominating the space. He didn't raise his gun or grab his knife. The forester slowly placed the lantern on the feeder, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached into his shirt—you huddled tightly, preparing to spring—but instead of a weapon, he pulled out a heavy package wrapped in greasy paper.

The man took one short step forward. You hissed. Finn stopped and simply placed the bundle on the floorboards between you. The heavy, aromatic scent of smoked lard and bread filled the cramped space, drowning out the scent of birds.

"The animals these days are so skinny," was all he said. "I don't want to see you anywhere in the village. You can eat here. But you'll have to work for it."