As night fell, a gentle breeze brushed across Sasha's face, carrying a coolness that made her hug the warm bundle in her arms even tighter.
Sensing her movements, Nolan opened his eyes and noticed she seemed a little cold. He tried to radiate more warmth, though his small body could only produce a limited amount of heat.
Sasha, waking from the chill, shifted and sat up slowly. The tree trunk was uncomfortable, stiff, and hard, making her long for her soft, luxurious bed. She touched the cat in her arms, blinking sleepily, only to be stunned by the scene before her eyes.
The moon above was enormous, far larger than any she had ever seen on Earth. Even the lines etched across its surface were visible.
The night sky was sprinkled with purple sparkling stars, resembling a Milky Way paved with fine violet sand across a deep blue canvas, beautiful and overwhelming.
Around her, tiny fluorescent lights floated, rising above the lake and dancing in the grass like countless fireflies.
Sasha had no time to fully appreciate this fairy-tale landscape. In that moment, she realized fully that she was no longer on Earth. At least, nowhere on Earth could such a place exist. Even in the African wilderness, no forest blocked the sun so completely.
From the start, she knew the situation was abnormal. Where had she ended up? Another world? Sasha shivered at the thought.
Lowering her head in frustration, she stared blankly at the endless forest surrounding her.
Nolan sensed her despair and rubbed his fluffy head against her chest, trying to offer comfort. Was she frightened?
Seeing her helpless expression, he felt distressed. He desperately wanted his injuries to heal quickly so he could protect her.
The little creature in her arms drew Sasha's attention. She realized it was trying to comfort her, though she never imagined a black cat would be her companion in this strange world.
Sasha stroked its head softly and whispered, "What the hell is this place?"
Hearing her words, Nolan wished he could answer. He wanted to tell her, "This is the ancient continent." Yet all he could do was "meow meow." Injured and unable to transform into a beastman, he could not communicate, and a pang of sadness filled him.
Moonlight glinted off the sparkling lake, reflecting silvery light across the surroundings. Everything appeared unusually clear and bright.
Sasha gazed at the luminous moon with dull eyes, a storm of frustration and helplessness racing in her mind.
God was unfair, she thought. Before she could take revenge on those two, she had been thrust into this ghostly place where survival itself was uncertain.
She wanted to cry, but no tears came. The long night stretched endlessly, and her soul felt suspended.
—
Morning arrived with rich red light streaming through gaps in the forest canopy, casting mottled patterns on the quiet forest floor, refracted into gentle bursts of color.
Birdsong accompanied the new day, waking Sasha slowly. She rubbed her eyes, stretched, and carefully climbed down from the tree.
Her first task was tending to Nolan. She prepared fresh Prunella vulgaris into a medicinal paste, unwrapped the cloth around his wound, and applied the paste. The bleeding had stopped, and healing had begun. She cleaned him again with water and reapplied the herb, relieved to see no signs of infection.
A roll of paper towels, previously soaked in the lake, had dried enough to serve as temporary bandages. Sasha wrapped Nolan carefully, securing the wound, then took a few biscuits and sipped lake water for breakfast. She shared small pieces with the cat, mindful of his condition.
After finishing, she turned to her own needs. Her body was sticky and uncomfortable. A clean freak by nature, she always brought her own toiletries. With no one around, she removed her clothes and stepped into the clear lake. The water rippled gently under her touch, the temperature perfectly temperate, as she washed her smooth, fair skin.
The black cat observed, but Sasha paid no attention. Sunlight caught droplets sliding across her body, her hair plastered wet against her back, her chest partially covered to preserve modesty.
Nolan felt a thrill at the sight of her, though he could do nothing. His injuries prevented transformation, and forcing it could be fatal. He buried his head in his front paws, suppressing his desire.
Sasha applied shampoo, lathered rich foam, and carefully washed her hair. She then changed into hot pants and a white shirt from her suitcase. Using a silver comb, a cherished family heirloom, she tied her hair into a high ponytail and applied sunscreen and lip balm. Her fair skin was precious to her, and as a beautician, she was meticulous about protecting it. Despite being nearly thirty, she appeared no older than eighteen or nineteen.
Tidying herself, she picked up the black cat and placed him in her bag. Waiting passively was not an option. She planned to venture deeper into the jungle, searching for an exit.
Survival in this dense, ominous forest could not rely on weakness alone. There might be others beyond the forest, she thought, cautiously optimistic.
With bag and suitcase in hand, Sasha set out, stepping into the thick undergrowth to begin the arduous journey of finding her way out.
The dense primeval forest was dark and shadowed, quiet and ominous. Sasha walked slowly over the soft, muddy ground, her steps heavy and weary.
"Ugh," she sighed for the hundredth time. She had been walking for three days. Her feet were blistered, and yet there was no end to the forest in sight.
Her heart sank further. The snacks in her bag had long been eaten, and now she was surviving on the fruit she had found on a nearby tree. Its round leaves suggested something like dragon fruit, but its taste resembled watermelon.
Though exhausted and worn down, Sasha felt an unyielding spark of life. In desperate moments, human perseverance often shone brightest.
Eventually, she sank onto her suitcase, drained, her throat parched and mouth dry. She reached for the fruit when a sudden chill ran down her spine, as though unseen eyes were fixed on her in the shadows.
Anxiously, she looked back and froze. A pack of wolves—forty or fifty strong—was following her.
Yet these were no ordinary wolves. Their tusks gleamed sharply in the dim light, long and deadly. Sasha had only heard of saber-toothed tigers, but now she faced saber-toothed wolves.