Prithvi's lungs burned. His small legs carried him over roots and through the thick underbrush, heart hammering with every step. Behind him, the snarls of the two younger wolves grew closer, sharp and hungry, teeth glinting in the dappled sunlight.
"Stay behind me…" Aarav's voice echoed in his mind, but he was alone now.
Fear made his chest tighten. Every instinct screamed to run, to hide, to escape — but the wolves were faster. Their paws pounded the forest floor like rolling thunder.
Prithvi stumbled over a root, sprawling onto the ground. He looked up, and the two wolves loomed over him, eyes yellow and teeth bared. One lunged.
Instinct took over. He flinched — and then felt a strange warmth in his back, the same pulse from the sun-mark he had felt two nights before. He didn't know what he was doing, only imagined it, pictured it, willed it to happen.
A gush of water erupted from the stream he had run past moments ago. It shot into the air, a swirling torrent shaped by his mind. The first wolf slammed into it, yelping as the water knocked it off balance. The second skidded to the side, paws sliding in the mud.
Prithvi's eyes widened. He had done it.
The forest around him seemed to hum, leaves and branches bending subtly as if alive, attuned to his fear and will. The water surged again, forming a swirling barrier between him and the wolves. They circled, snarling, trying to find a gap.
Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard Aarav's grunt — a warning, a battle cry. But here, now, it was only him.
He focused harder, imagining the water as sharp and solid, a blade of liquid, spinning and striking. The first wolf yelped, retreating a step. The second froze, ears flat, calculating.
Prithvi's heart raced — he had never consciously made magic like this before. He hadn't chanted. He hadn't learned. He had simply imagined, willed, and it had obeyed.
A branch snapped behind him. One wolf leapt again. Prithvi's hands flared with instinctive energy, and the water surged up like a wave, slamming the wolf into the mud with a crash.
The other wolf hesitated, wary. Prithvi's chest throbbed as the forest seemed to pulse around him, waiting. He could feel the stream, the roots, the wind — all alive, all listening.
A roar echoed from deeper in the forest. The larger Raksh-Wolf's warning, a reminder that the danger was far from over.
Prithvi's lips trembled. I can do this. I have to.
The wolves circled again, more cautiously. The first one pawed at the air, trying to test the barrier. The second, younger and sharper, bared its teeth.
Prithvi's small hands clenched into fists. His mind raced, images of swirling water and the forest's breath shaping into walls and whips, sharp enough to strike without hurting beyond control. The forest responded to his fear, his will, and his desire to survive.
Somewhere in his back, the pulse of the sun-mark thrummed louder, urging him forward. He realized, for the first time, that this wasn't just magic. This was a part of him — wild, untamed, and alive.
The wolves backed off slightly, circling, uncertain. The forest hummed with energy around him, warning them, daring them.
Prithvi's eyes, wide with awe and fear, never left them.
And somewhere beyond, Aarav fought the alpha, holding the line — giving him the precious seconds he needed to understand the first true edge of his power.
The chase was far from over, but for the first time, Prithvi felt something like control.
The forest was his — in part — and it was listening.