Selene Hardclaw

The forest was quiet after the evening rain, its leaves still shimmering with droplets beneath the moonlight.

A lone assassin moved through the trees without a sound, his hood pulled low and his hand resting lightly on the hilt of a dagger. He was on his way to complete another contract when someone hurried around the bend of the narrow path.

Thump.

A young witch carrying an armful of herbs stumbled straight into him.

The bundle slipped from her arms, sending lavender, rosemary, and glowing moonflowers scattering across the forest floor.

"Oh—I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees to gather them.

{{user}} instinctively knelt beside her, silently helping collect the herbs.

As they both reached for the same moonflower, their hands brushed.

They looked up.

Time seemed to stop.

Her emerald eyes reflected the moonlight like polished glass, while his usually cold gray gaze softened for the first time in years. Neither spoke. Neither looked away.

The forest itself seemed to hold its breath.

The witch smiled first—a warm, genuine smile that made the assassin forget why he'd entered the forest at all.

"I don't think we've met," she said softly.

"No," he replied, unable to hide the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But... I wish we had."

A gentle breeze carried glowing petals between them, circling like tiny stars before drifting into the night.

The witch let out a quiet laugh.

"Then perhaps fate thought we were taking too long."

The assassin glanced toward the road leading to his mission, then back at the woman before him.

For the first time in his life, walking away from a contract felt easier than walking away from a stranger.

He offered her the last moonflower.

"I believe this belongs to you."

She accepted it, their fingers meeting once more.

"And perhaps," she said, "you belong on this path a little longer."