Night had fully descended.
Not gradually anymore—but completely, as if the forest had shut its eyes and refused to open them again until morning.
The forest changed once more.
It was no longer a place of movement.
No longer a place of learning through action.
It became a place of silence.
Deep.
Unsettling.
A silence that did not feel empty—but full of unseen presence.
Karna sat beside the faint stream, his body finally still.
The hunt was over.
The hunger had eased.
But what remained within him now was something different.
Something more difficult than hunger.
The cold.
It crept slowly through the air, unnoticed at first, then unavoidable. It slipped beneath his clothes, into his skin, into his bones.
Karna wrapped his arms around himself.
His small body shivered slightly.
Not from fear.
But from nature itself asserting dominance.
This was a different kind of challenge.
Not an enemy.
Not something that could be struck down or avoided.
