Luo Feng pressed himself deeper into the hollow, the narrow crack pressing uncomfortably against his sides, leaves and soil scraping against his scales with a dry, rustling whisper. The wildcat had retreated slightly, ears flattened and tail flicking with sharp, irritated jerks. For a moment everything seemed suspended in the humid jungle air, as if the forest itself had paused to watch this small drama unfold.
Above, the sky had begun to darken subtly. A heavy gray crept across the canopy, a slow tide swallowing the scattered shafts of sunlight. The golden glow that once pierced through the layers of leaves grew faint and sickly, replaced by shadows that deepened unnaturally and stretched long across the ground. The warmth of the day drained away, stolen by an advancing coolness that pressed heavily on the air. A faint breeze stirred the highest leaves, carrying the unmistakable scent of wet earth and decaying moss. The jungle smelled different now, charged and waiting, like it was holding its breath for some great event.
Luo Feng's tongue flicked rapidly, tasting the air again and again. Something had shifted. It was subtle but impossible to miss, a new pressure in the atmosphere. Even the wildcat's movements betrayed a new caution. Its ears swiveled sharply like independent satellites, its long whiskers twitching at every minor change in the wind's direction. It padded slowly, each pawfall more hesitant than the last, its claws sheathing and unsheathing into the soft loam. The predator was wary now. Cats hated hunting in the rain, despised the weight of water matting their thick fur, and the air already carried the iron promise of a storm.
Minutes passed, stretched long and tense into a seeming eternity. Luo Feng remained pressed motionless against the tight earthen walls, feeling every tiny pebble and root through his scales. The hollow was small and unforgiving, a cramped fist of soil and roots, but it kept him hidden from view. The wildcat prowled outside, its black nose testing the air, its pale eyes scanning the ground for any sign of its escaped prey, but every step it took was uneasy, distracted by the changing weather. A low growl rumbled in its throat, more frustration than hunger now. The wind gathered strength and carried a heavier smell of mud and deep rot. Droplets gathered on the broad leaves above, trembling like jewels, ready to fall.
Luo Feng hissed softly under his breath, irritation bubbling in his chest. The hollow was cramped and cold, a miserable refuge. The rough bark and hard soil scraped his flanks, and the knowledge that the coming rain would soon make the air heavier and colder filled him with a dull dread. The place felt like a trap, a cold stone prison, but it was the only barrier between him and the predator's teeth. He coiled tighter, pressing his belly hard to the ground, seeking what little warmth it held. His tongue flicked against the rough wall, tasting only damp soil and the bitter, metallic tang of his own fear.
The first faint drops finally fell. They pattered against the high canopy in scattered, hesitant notes, soft but sharp to his sensitive ears. Luo Feng twitched at the sound, his muscles locking instinctively into a frozen coil. The wildcat paused mid-step, its ears pressed flat to its skull, whiskers trembling with displeasure. It sniffed the air once more, its muzzle wrinkling, and then let out a low growl of pure disgust. With an annoyed, violent flick of its tail, it turned and padded back into the undergrowth, its form quickly swallowed by the deepening gloom. The predator would not risk the downpour. The storm had bought Luo Feng a fragile reprieve.
The rain began to build in earnest. First a scatter of drops, then a steady, persistent rhythm. Water struck leaves and branches, dripping in countless thin streams to the ground below. The jungle sighed under the weight of it, the vast canopy bending, the soil darkening with spreading moisture. Luo Feng pressed himself further into the hollow, hissing softly as a cold dampness began to seep into his scales. The space gave shelter but no comfort, no warmth. Twigs dug into him, dry leaves clung to his body like brittle skin, and every slight shift brought more scrapes against the unyielding earth.
He flicked his tongue again, tasting the wet forest air. It was thick with the earthy bite of moss and wet rot. Ugh. This was irritating. The storm had not yet poured directly into his hiding place, but its presence pressed in from every side, a damp blanket. He could hear the distant roar of water as it hit the jungle floor, a sound like thousands of tiny drums merging into one endless, monotonous note.
Time dragged in the wet darkness. The hollow was so tight that his movements were little more than small, painful twists of his coils. The air grew heavier with each passing moment, saturated with moisture. His body ached from the enforced stillness, yet he dared not leave. The predator would return once the rain eased, and he knew that venturing into the storm would only make him more vulnerable, more visible. The jungle was treacherous when soaked. Mud would pull at his body, roots would become slick and treacherous, and hidden pools would wait to trap him in their cold embrace.
Drops gathered near the mouth of the hollow, dripping slowly onto his scales. Each cold splash sent a tiny, involuntary twitch down his length. Luo Feng shifted, trying to adjust his position, but the hollow had no kindness to offer. Every position was uncomfortable, a new arrangement of pain. The soil pressed too tightly, the bark scratched, and the damp clung like an unwelcome, chilly film. He hissed again, low and sharp, a sound of pure frustration.
Night crept in as the rain grew heavier. Darkness swallowed the jungle whole, broken only by brief, silent flickers of lightning across the distant horizon. Thunder followed, a deep and rolling boom that shook the canopy and vibrated through the ground. The hollow shuddered with each distant strike. Luo Feng pressed himself hard against the earthen wall, his body tense and coiled like a spring. His eyes caught quick, frozen flashes of the world outside. Wet leaves gleamed with sudden silver. Roots glistened like bones. The jungle beyond looked strange and alien under the storm's brief, stark light.
The forest had changed utterly. The cheerful calls of birds were long silent. Small animals had vanished into their own deep burrows. Even the insects that usually filled the night with their ceaseless chirping sang in broken, uneven notes, drowned by the rain. The smell of rain and crushed vegetation overwhelmed everything else, filling Luo Feng's nostrils with a suffocating, green heaviness. He flicked his tongue, hissed his annoyance to the darkness, and pressed his body tighter to the wall. The hollow might be miserable, but at least it was a shield against the chaos outside.
Hours passed in that wet, clinging darkness. The rain poured without end, a relentless force. Luo Feng's muscles ached from staying coiled in one position for so long, but every time he stretched, the narrow space reminded him of its harsh limits. Twigs scraped, soil crumbled in small showers, and damp leaves stuck to his body. Frustration gnawed at him, a constant companion to his fear. He longed to move, to hunt, to glide freely through the undergrowth, but the jungle was unwelcoming in this state. Outside, waterlogged roots waited to trip him, and predators waited for the first moment of weakness.
Eventually the storm began to ease its grip. The endless patter softened into scattered, individual drops that fell from soaked leaves. Thunder rolled further away, its voice a fading grumble. The canopy no longer shook with the constant assault of rain. Instead, the forest sank into a heavy, dripping silence. Yet Luo Feng did not leave. He remained still, his eyes unblinking, his tongue testing the air for the slightest hint of threat. Danger was never truly gone. The wildcat would return. Other hunters might stir from their shelters now that the storm had passed.
The hollow was too small, too tight, and too damp. The long night pressed down on him, and irritation coiled through every thought like a vine. Yet he endured. He remained alive, hidden in the earth. For now, that was enough.