Grey’s fingers moved deftly over the supple leather, his hands dancing with a practiced rhythm that spoke of years spent in his father’s cobbler shop. The small, cluttered space was filled with the rich aroma of freshly cut leather and the sharp, tangy scent of polish, mingling with the earthy smell of sawdust. Each stitch he made seemed to hum with life, a secret vibrancy that only he could sense, as if the leather itself whispered secrets to him with every pull of the thread.

The front door creaked open, and the bell above it jingled with a soft, metallic chime. A gust of cool air swept in, carrying with it the fresh, crisp scent of the recent rain. Grey’s father entered, wiping thick clumps of mud off his boots onto the worn welcome mat, his heavy footsteps thudding against the wooden floor.

“Grey,” his father called in a gruff voice, “I told you to deliver the boots to Mr. Alaric.”

Grey looked up from his work, as he remembered his commitment. "I was about to go," he replied, pushing back from the workbench.

“It’s almost afternoon, you can’t go now,” his father said, glancing at the darkening sky outside the window.

“I know. I’ll be quick.” Grey hastily finished stitching, tied off the thread with a swift motion, and immediately began winding up his current project. He grabbed the boots wrapped in brown paper and headed toward the door.

“Stay away from the woods!” his father called out after him, but Grey was already out of the shop, the door slamming shut behind him.

He sprinted down the path realizing one hand still held the leather cutter he had forgotten to put back. With a frustrated sigh, he shoved it into his pocket.

The dirt path stretched out before him, winding its way through fields of golden wheat and barley that swayed gently in the breeze. Grey sprinted, his boots thudding against the stones, the package clutched tightly in one hand. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, staining the sky in hues of orange and purple. "This isn’t good," he muttered to himself.

He reached a fork in the road and hesitated. One path led around the forest, a longer route. The other cut directly through the thick trees, a shortcut that would save time but came with its own risks.

“I should take the forest route,” he thought, glancing nervously at the darkening sky. “It’s shorter.”

A sudden squawk made him jump. He looked up to see a parrot swooping down, its lush green feathers shimmering in the fading light. The bird landed on his head, flapping its wings. “Beak, what are you doing here?” Grey asked, reaching up to gently push the bird off his head. The parrot squawked again louder, as if trying to warn him.

“Come on, we have to deliver this package on time,” Grey said, ignoring the bird’s protests. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and dashed into the forest, the shadows of the trees swallowing him up as Beak continued to squawk in distress.

The forest was dense, the canopy overhead blocking out much of the remaining light. The air was cool and damp, filled with the earthy scent of wet leaves and moss. Grey moved quickly, weaving between the trees and leaping over fallen branches, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of leaves underfoot. The forest seemed to close in around him, the trees whispering in the wind, echoing the beak’s warnings.

The woods became thicker, a layer of mist clung to the ground, swirling around Grey's ankles as he moved forward. Moss climbed the trunks of towering trees with a determined grip, their green fuzz covering the bark like a soft, living blanket. Grey glanced around, trying to navigate the narrow paths that seemed to snake in every direction, each one a potential wrong turn.

Above, the gnarled branches spreading out like a witch’s bony fingers clawing at the sky, blocking out most of the sunlight. The few rays that did make it through creating patterns on the forest floor, flickering like ghostly figures dancing just beyond sight. The deeper Grey went, the darker it became, the trees growing closer together, their branches intertwining overhead like the bars of a cage.

He pressed on, trusting his instincts to guide him. Each breath filled with the scent of wet wood and log decay, a reminder of the forest’s unyielding grip on everything within it. The woods seemed to close in around him, the air growing cooler and stiller as he moved toward its heart, where the trees stood like silent sentinels, ancient and foreboding.

Suddenly, a sharp crack shattered the stillness. Grey froze, his heart hammering in his chest. Beak squawked loudly, flapping his wings in agitation. “Shh, it’s okay,” Grey whispered, reaching up to stroke the parrot’s soft feathers, feeling the rapid beat of his own pulse in his fingertips. He took a cautious step forward, straining to listen, his ears tuned to any hint of movement.

The sound came again, a low rustling followed by a muffled thump. Grey crept closer, his senses alert to every shift in the air. He pushed past a thick curtain of branches and saw it, a creature with a coat of white, its mane glowing in the darkness around. Its intricate antlers, were tangled in a mess of low-hanging branches, pulling its head down toward the ground. The creature struggled frantically, its eyes wide with fear, nostrils flaring as it fought to free itself.

Without hesitation, Grey stepped forward, his movements slow and careful. “Easy there,” he murmured softly, holding out a hand in a gesture of peace. The creature flinched, but Grey kept his voice calm and steady. “I’m here to help.”

He moved closer, careful not to make any sudden movements that might startle the animal. His hands gentle but firm as he reached up to untangle the antlers, his fingers smoothly working through the branches. The creature’s struggles subsided as it seemed to sense Grey’s intention to free him. Its radiant eyes watched him closely, still wary but no longer panicked.

Reaching into his pocket, Grey pulled out the cutter. He carefully positioned the blade against the thickest branch and began to saw. The blade bit into the wood, and after a few moments, the branch snapped, freeing the creature’s antlers. With a final, swift cut, Grey cleared the remaining branches away.

The creature stood still for a moment, as if unsure that it was truly free. Then, with a soft snort, it shook its head, its antlers catching the light in a brief flash. Grey stepped back, watching as the creature stood in the shadows, with a grace that seemed otherworldly.

It’s eyes, locked onto Grey's, reflecting a depth of emotion, a silent gratitude that sent a shiver down his spine. As it moved away, a soft shimmer of light began to envelop its body, swirling like a mist, transforming the creature before his very eyes. The air around it seemed to pulse with energy, and Grey watched in awe as the animal’s true nature was revealed. Its fur glowed with a radiant light, its antlers sparkling like they were made of stardust.

“I am Halo, and this is a gift for your kindness,” the creature spoke, its voice a soft whisper that resonated through the forest.

Before Grey could utter a response, the light intensified, blinding him momentarily. When the glow faded, Halo was gone, leaving only a faint trail of luminescence that quickly vanished into the air. Grey stood there, bewildered. A strange warmth spread through his veins, a tingling sensation that made his skin prickle.

“What’s happening to me?” he gasped. Beak squawked wildly, fluttering around his head in distress, his green feathers ruffled.

Grey’s vision blurred, the world around him spun. Pressure building behind his eyes, his veins bulging as if they were about to burst. Panic surged through him, and he staggered backward, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve alight with a strange energy.

With a final, desperate cry, Grey’s knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the forest floor.