Page 49 of Enslak

The sky overhead was that impossible not-quite-blue, streaked with clouds that looked hand-painted. The sun—larger, warmer, more orange than Sol—cast everything in a golden glow that made the whole scene look like a fantasy painting come to life.

And the sounds.

Wind moved through the trees, but not like Earth wind. This had a musical quality, as if the leaves were designed to sing. Water ran somewhere nearby—the river I'd spotted during our descent. And in the distance, something roared.

Deep. Primal. The kind of sound that lit up every prey instinct in my DNA.

"Holy shit," I whispered, apprehension prickling up my spine.

Movement in the trees caught my eye. Something massive—easily thirty feet tall—moved through the forest with surprising grace. I caught glimpses: scaled hide, a long neck, a tail that swept through the underbrush.

A dinosaur.

An actual goddamn dinosaur.

Or something so close it didn't matter. Something that had no business existing outside museums and Jurassic Park movies.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched it move through the distant trees, each step making the ground tremble. The creature—whatever it was—seemed focused on something else, moving parallel to our position rather than toward us.

It was far away. At least a quarter mile, maybe more. The forest stretched thick between us, layers of those massive trees and dense undergrowth that would slow anything down.

I forced myself to breathe. To think logically instead of letting panic take over.

We'd landed here deliberately. Binwee had set the autopilot. She'd chosen this spot. She wouldn't have put us down somewhere dangerous, somewhere those things regularly hunted. The clearing was open, visible. If those creatures came here often, there'd be signs—trampled vegetation, massive tracks, stripped trees.

But the clearing was pristine. Untouched except for the flowers and grass.

Maybe they stayed deeper in the forest. Maybe they avoided open spaces like this. Maybe they had their own territories, their own hunting grounds, and this wasn't one of them.

The roar came again, but fainter now. Moving away. Fading into the distance.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"This is Avalon," I said, not sure if I was talking to Enslak or myself. "This is where we're staying. Where you're going to heal."

Enslak moved past me down the ramp, his steps cautious but steady. He stood in the clearing, head tilted back, breathing in the scent of this alien world. His entire body was tense, alert, assessing every detail.

Then he turned to look at me, and I saw it happen.

The shift from confusion to purpose. From disorientation to focus.

He moved to stand between me and the forest. Between me and whatever had made that sound. His posture changed—protective, defensive. His eyes scanned the tree line, cataloging threats, calculating distances.

Keeping me safe.

"It's okay," I said softly. "We're okay."

He looked at me, and something in his expression made my chest tight. He didn't have the words to tell me what he was thinking, what he was feeling. But I could see it in his eyes.

I'll protect you. Whatever comes. I'll keep you safe.

He held out his hand.

I took it without hesitation.

His pelt was warm, rough in places, but his grip was gentle. Careful. Like he was afraid of breaking me.

We stood there for a moment, hand in hand, looking out at this impossible world. Then Enslak tugged gently, leading me away from the ship toward the tree line.