𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 ━━━ ✧ ⋆ （ acotar ）

✧ ˚ 𝐯𝐢𝐢. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐞

✧ ˚ 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒. 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒. Slaughtered chicken. Double-loop snare. Close to running water.

𝙁𝙀𝙔𝙍𝙀 repeated those instructions in her head as she walked through the manor. Lucien had been immensely helpful in her pursuit of knowledge of how to catch a Surielㅡimmensely helpful in telling her that Tamlin was no longer on the grounds.

She didn't know what to think of the male. He was the reason their lives had been completely uprooted, and the reason Asteria was beginning to be overwhelmed with anxiety. She'd told Feyre he had apologized for what he nearly did that night, yet that information did nothing but worry her that they've been alone together.

Feyre paused just outside of the door to the study, where she knew her sister would be, her hand hovering just over the handle.

Asteria hadn't wanted to leave the manor since that day in the forest with the Bogge. She should have been more concerned over that, but the more selfish part of her was relievedㅡrelieved that she wouldn't have to constantly look over her shoulder just to know that she was safe. Feyre had promised their dying mother that she would protect her sisters, but she had already made that very vow for her youngest sister, who had nearly died of fever mere months prior.

Their father always said that Asteria was the best of them. None of them disagreedㅡthey all knew it was true. They'd all give up everything for her, for she was what they had made her: a perfect, unyielding mixture of the three eldest sisters.

So instead of opening the door to tell Asteria what she learned, Feyre turned on her heel and entered the forest, armed with her bow and quiver and Lucien's knife. She lugged along a brown satchel stuffed of a dead chicken (she'd gotten very baffled looks when she'd requested it from the kitchen staff), an extra blade tucked into the confines of her boot.

There were no birds or small critters chittering in the woods, but Feyre had grown used to the strange, unnerving silence of it on her rides with Lucien. They'd never gone on this side, though. There was no path, no sign of anyone exploring this part of the forest before her, the dense foliage surrounding her senses untamed.

Feyre only had a few hours until sunset. She kept reminding herself that it would be dangerous in the dark, but the Bogge had stalked them in broad daylight.

Lucien had mentioned offhandedly that the Bogge was dead, killed by Tamlin two nights ago. Now he was off dealing with some other threatㅡthankfully not in this part of the forest. She wondered in what capacity Tamlin had to answer to the High Lord of the Spring Court, or if it was his High Lord that had carved out Lucien's eye. Maybe it was the High Lord's consortㅡthe she that was constantly mentioned when they thought she and Asteria were not paying attentionㅡthat instilled such fear in them.

Feyre kept her steps light, her senses on high alert. Shortcomings, he'd called it. She didn't need to read to know how to hunt properly.

She broke through the treeline into a glen with a small stream. Lucien had told her that running water was needed to capture the Suriel, and this was the closest she'd get to it.