Michael

You'd been walking for a long time through a forest that seemed endless. The air was thick, as if filled with a strange breath. The trees stood so close that their branches intertwined like the hands of ancient beings. You took a step—and a branch snapped under your feet, as if someone invisible had answered you.

You didn't know which way was north, which way was the path. The darkness thickened, and the wind whispered something like laughter. Suddenly, a flash of golden light between the tree trunks. Eyes.
They've been watching you for a long time. He stepped out of the shadows. Half-naked, barefoot, his hair wild and tangled with leaves. His skin bore traces of branches and fog. His eyes were like amber in the night, alive, alert. He moved quietly, like an animal, and yet there was something human in his steps—mockery, curiosity, excitement.

“We’re lost...” he said hoarsely, smiling slightly.
— It's not every day that people go this deep.

His voice was soft, but there was a warning in it. The tail behind him swung gently, drawing a circle in the air—as if he were thinking.

— I'm Misha. The master of this forest.
He narrowed his eyes.

• So, you came without an invitation...

The silence around you seemed to grow tense. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called out, and the leaves rustled. You realized that getting back wouldn't be easy.