CHAPTER 6 — The Guardian of the Seed
The creature dropped from the tree with a thundering WHUMP, snow exploding outward from the impact. I froze—every muscle in my tiny rabbit body turned to stone. Not because I chose to.
Because instinct took over.
The thing that landed before me wasn't a wolf, nor anything like the predators I'd sensed so far.
It was massive—towering over me like a boulder with limbs. It was at least 10 feet tall (3m). Its fur was thick and dark, dusted with frost. Claws like curved daggers sank into the snow with each heavy breath.
A bear.
But… not just a bear.
Its eyes glowed faintly. Gold flecks swirled within deep brown irises like embers caught in wind. And when they locked onto me, something cold and ancient pressed against my consciousness.
I felt… seen.
Not as prey, this felt different, like I was being assessed. Examined. As something unusual.
The bear stepped forward—slow, deliberate. Snow crunched under its paws. I lowered myself instinctively, ears pressed flat, ready to bolt—
A voice entered my mind.
"Do not run, little one."
I jolted so violently I almost fell sideways.
The bear's mouth didn't move. Not a sound passed through the air, but the words were a deep, resonant vibration inside my skull.
Telepathy?
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"I-I—don't—" I squeaked.
"Calm yourself," the voice rumbled, gentle but immense. "If I wished harm, you would not have reached this clearing."
…Fair point. I could feel how strong this bear was. It probably saw me from a mile away.
I swallowed, trembling.
The bear lowered itself slightly, its massive head bringing those ember-like eyes closer to me.
"A newborn Snowbound Hare," it murmured. "And alone… how strange."
The words hit harder than the wolf's pounce ever could.
Newborn?
Right. Because I looked like one.
A newly reincarnated rabbit would appear as nothing but a vulnerable infant to anyone who didn't know otherwise. And I sure as hell wasn't going to convince a giant telepathic bear that I used to be a 18 year old nobody, construction worker from another world.
I said nothing, brain scrambling for something believable.
The bear sniffed lightly.
"Where is your mother?"
My breath caught.
I couldn't tell him the truth. Not because he felt threatening—he didn't—but because saying "I used to be a human and I died on anther planet and now somehow became a rabbit on this world. Oh yea and I do space magic and can see weird system messages" might get me eaten just for being weird.
So I said the safest thing I could.
"I… I don't know," I whispered. I played dumb. It's not a lie if I don't know.
The bear's eyes narrowed—not in suspicion, but in something like sorrow.
"You cannot find her?"
I shook my head.
He let out a deep, sad exhale that ruffled my fur.
"Then you truly are lost."
Before I could respond, the bear moved.
Its shape shimmered, light seemed expand from the best—fur rippling like waves, limbs contorting, shrinking. Bones cracked, but not painfully—smooth, practiced, ancient. Like this transformation had been performed thousands of times.
Within seconds, the light faded, and the towering beast stood replaced by…
A man.
A tall, broad-shouldered human with thick brown hair pulled back loosely, streaked with gray that showed age rather than weakness. His jawline was sharp, his cheekbones defined, his presence somehow even larger in this form.
Two bear ears perched atop his head, but weirdly he also had human ears, where they should belong as well, which honestly threw me off. And behind him—
A tiny bear tail poked out from his cloak.
He wasn't just a shapeshifter, no I could feel he was something more than just a 'Bear' or 'Man'.
He looked down at me with warm, steady eyes.
"Better?" he asked—this time aloud, voice deep and slightly gravelly.
I nodded shakily.
He crouched, moving slowly to avoid scaring me.
"My name is Garron Winterpelt," he said softly. "Guardian of this grove. Keeper of the Evolution Node. Watcher and Protector of the Coldwood Forest."
That was a lot of titles, a lot of Important-sounding ones.
He smiled faintly, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "And you, little one? Do you have a name?"
My ears twitched.
"…Kyree."
"A good name," Garron said, as if genuinely pleased. "Ky-reé? Hmmm, yes names are a strange thing for Snowbound Hares anyway."
a good name?
That phrase hit strangely in my chest.
He stood again to his full height—nearly seven feet even in human form—and looked toward the glowing Node pulsing under the roots.
"You came here for this," he said. "Did you sense it?"
I hesitated… then nodded. I wasn't going to tell him it was due to my Space Magic.
His eyebrows lifted. "Impressive. Even an adult snow-hare mages struggle to sense raw evolution energy. For a newborn, you are remarkably perceptive."
I wasn't sure whether to feel proud or guilty, but before I could dwell on the feeling he spoke, "Where did you come from little one?"
"I-I've been wandering alone," I said, sticking to my partial truth. "I just… woke up alone in the snow. I've been trying to survive these past few days."
Garron went still.
"Alone… since birth?" he repeated softly.
I nodded once.
He stared at me for a long time.
I could tell he wasn't judging. No this wasn't pity. I felt that to many times... This was simple.
It was just… understanding. Like he looked and saw exactly what was in front of him— me.
At last, he said in a low, gentle rumble, "You have endured much."
His expression tightened, as if suppressing anger—not at me, but at the situation.
"No creature should begin life alone in these woods. Even adult beasts struggle. Cubs perish so early and SnowHares scatter. Packs hunt your kind relentlessly."
Tell me about it. I tried not to look eager at the new information.
Garron extended a hand palm-up, inviting rather than grabbing.
"Come with me," he said. "My den is close. You are cold, hungry, and exhausted. You may rest safely under my protection."
I blinked up at him.
A 7-foot-tall bear-man was offering me a warm bed and safety.
To a rabbit.
I should've questioned it more, but after nearly dying several times, caution took a back seat to survival.
And he really didn't feel dangerous.
More… fatherly.
"I… okay," I said quietly.
Garron smiled kindly. "Good. Stay close. The mountains grow colder at night."
He began walking, and I hopped beside him, struggling to match his slower pace. He was careful not to outpace me, adjusting his steps so I could keep up. It felt strange. Almost comforting.
The forest shifted as we approached a rocky outcropping near the mountain base. It was only about 100 ft away (30m). A natural cave mouth opened into the stone of the mountain. Garron entered without hesitation, gesturing for me to follow.
Warmth hit me instantly.
The interior had soft furs lining the ground, a fire pit in the corner with stones surrounding unlit embers, and shelves carved directly into the stone walls holding various herbs, bowls, and dried meats. I even saw about 7 books wrapped in leather stacked neatly in a line.
It was a home. Not a den, or an empty cave. A home.
I stepped inside timidly.
Garron closed the hide curtain over the entrance, sealing the warmth.
He knelt again, bringing his face closer to mine.
"I must ask, Kyree…" he said slowly. "Have you truly survived alone from your first day? No clan? No warren? No mother watching over you?"
His tone wasn't accusatory—just deeply worried.
I hesitated before nodding.
"Yes." I answered honestly. I mean from the time I woke up alive as a rabbit, I hadn't seen any one else... besides those damn wolfs.
Garron's brow furrowed. He murmured something under his breath in a language I didn't recognize.
When he met my eyes again, there was no pity—just a quiet resolve.
"Then you are stronger than you appear," he said. "Most Snowbound Hares would have perished within hours."
I looked down at my paws.
"I almost did," I admitted.
Garron's expression softened.
He reached forward with one massive hand and gently—very gently—tapped a single finger against the top of my head.
"A brave little thing," he said warmly.
If rabbits could blush, I probably did.
Then his voice shifted, becoming more serious.
"Kyree. There is something you must understand." He leaned back, settling onto a fur-covered rock. "Snowbound Hares… are rare."
I tilted my head.
"Rare?" I echoed.
"Yes, very rare," he repeated firmly. "And important. They carry ancient bloodlines tied to the primal forces of magic. Not every hare awakens such power… but you already have."
He gestured at me with a knowing look.
"Sensing the Evolution Node. Surviving without a clan…" He shook his head, impressed. "You are not ordinary."
I swallowed.
"So… what does that mean?"
He smiled slightly.
"It means your future is far larger than you realize. But we will discuss that tomorrow."
"Why tomorrow?" I asked softly.
He pointed toward the glowing Evolution Node outside his cave.
"The Seed is not yet born," he explained. "It requires one more day—perhaps two—before the energy crystallizes into a form you can safely consume."
Consume.
The word made my fur stand on end.
"You mean I eat it?"
He chuckled. "In a manner of speaking, yes."
I wasn't sure if he was joking.
"But rest for now, Kyree. Your body is strained. Your mana is depleted. I can see your spirit flickers from overuse. Sleep. When you wake, I will explain everything."
I hesitated only a moment before curling on a warm fur near the fire pit. My body sank into it gratefully, tension melting away.
Garron sat nearby, keeping silent watch over the cave entrance, presence radiating calm.
For the first time since waking up in this world, I felt safe.
Truly, deeply safe.
My eyes grew heavy.
My last thought before sleep claimed me was simple:
Maybe this world isn't as terrible as it seemed.