The hunter moved to a small shelf inside the hut and pulled out a simple, worn-out bag. He rummaged through it and produced a few supplies—dry bread, a small cloth for Ezra, and a flask.
"We need to rest and gather ourselves," he said plainly. "We're safe here for now, but we can't stay long."
Ezra nodded and took the cloth offered to him, wiping sweat from his face. His mind was filled with questions, but he didn't press. Instead, he just sat and looked around the cramped space, trying to understand his new surroundings.
After eating a quick meal, Ezra asked, "Who are they? Why are they after me?"
The hunter sighed and looked out the small window of the hut. "People like them—those chasing us—they want control. And they think you might be part of something bigger, something that threatens their power. That's all I know for sure."
Ezra's brow furrowed. "What do I have that they want?"
The hunter paused, then said simply, "It's not just what you have, but what you can become. That's what scares them most."
Ezra didn't fully understand what that meant, but he nodded. No more questions for now. The ache of exhaustion pressed in, and he laid down on a rough cot near the wall.
Outside, the woods were silent, but Ezra knew danger still lurked—just beyond sight. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize every detail of the hut, every sound of the forest outside.
He didn't know what would come next, but for tonight, they had a moment of quiet.