She woke up from her stupor.
She saw many berries scattered on the ground and struggled to rise from the snow.
Behind her, the Secret Forest was deep and dark, ahead lay the hills covered in white snow, a thin night sky heavily pressing on her heart.
She stared in panic and confusion at the unfamiliar scene.
Where was this?
...
The hunt had lasted for several days because it was a long journey.
Thus, they had to camp here tonight.
Roman was butchering a deer when he saw Gwivelle, frantic like a child who had had a nightmare, rush into his arms.
His hands were bloody from slaughtering the prey; he did not touch Gwivelle's head but simply asked, "What's wrong?"
"Roman, Roman… Sanna, Sanna, Sanna is gone!" Gwivelle gasped for air, and after finishing her sentence, the suppressed fear and tension inside her burst forth, tears rolling down her cheeks as she cried bitterly.
...
The dusk was dim, and the cold wind was urgent.
The surrounding trees also faded with the night.
