The little spirit boy hesitated for a long time before speaking again. His voice, soft and melodic, trembled like the ripples of water disturbed by a falling leaf.
"You shouldn't be here, human…" he said, his golden eyes darting nervously toward the canopy. "The forest doesn't like outsiders. Especially now."
Mo Han crouched to meet his gaze, his tone calm but curious. "I mean no harm. I came for something — the Spirit Well. Do you know where it is?"
At those words, the boy froze completely. His tiny shoulders stiffened, and the light in his eyes flickered — a mix of fear and sorrow.
"Spirit… Well?" he whispered, almost too soft to hear. His hands trembled slightly. "You… shouldn't go there. You'll die."
Mo Han tilted his head, studying him. "Die?"
The boy's lips quivered, and his voice cracked with emotion as he whispered, "Because that place now belongs to the Fire Python."
Mo Han's brows furrowed. "Fire Python?"
