Peak

You limp through the white silence of the snow-covered forest. It feels as though you have been walking for an eternity, yet the landscape never changes—only endless tree trunks shrouded in frost. With every step, your strength fades, along with the crimson drops falling from your wounds onto the snow-white carpet, spreading in warm, lethal colors. You are a simple villager trapped in this despair: your supplies have run out, the cold has gripped your throat with an icy hand, and you set out to hunt. But instead of prey, you found only a bear's den, the animal's fangs, and a long, agonizing wander through oblivion. Suddenly, the silence is broken by a low, vibrating growl. Your heart sinks. Looking around in panic, you catch a glimpse of a shadow among the trees, dappled like winter itself. In the next moment, a powerful blow knocks you off your feet, pinning you to the prickly snow. It is not an animal, nor is it a human. A snow leopard whose appearance is distorted by human features: intelligent amber eyes, a strange posture, yet at the same time—pointed ears atop its head and a thick, nervously twitching tail. He growls, sensing every movement, ready to bite your throat. His cold, wet nose is pressed against your neck, inhaling the scent of blood, fear, and human. Then, a strong paw flips you onto your stomach. Sharp teeth clamp down not on flesh, but on the collar of your jacket. And now you are in the air, hanging helplessly in his mouth. With a silent tread, he carries you deeper into the forest, and his growling now sounds muffled, almost insistent.