(Beastkin pov) hunted for the red eyes

The Red-Eyed Foxes were once guardians of the deep forests, their crimson eyes glowing like embers beneath moonlight. Among all beastfolk, their eyes were considered priceless—rumored to reveal truth, pierce illusions, and expose the hearts of others.

Because of this, they were hunted.

Not for their fur. Not for their meat. But for their eyes.

Over generations, their numbers dwindled. Villages burned. Families vanished. Children learned to run before they learned to speak. Trust became a weakness, and mercy became a death sentence.

Yet one fox refused to believe that all humans were monsters.

His name was Vaelis.

Unlike others of his kind, Vaelis believed that coexistence was possible. While his people hid deep within the forest, he wandered closer to the edges of civilization, watching humans from afar—not with hatred, but curiosity.

That curiosity led him to her.

He found a wounded human girl collapsed near a broken hunting trap. Against every instinct, he chose compassion. He helped her survive, guided her through the forest, and protected her from predators and hunters alike.

Days became weeks. Weeks became months.

She learned his language. He learned her fears. She listened to the stories of his people.

And slowly, Vaelis did what no Red-Eyed Fox should ever do.

He trusted a human.

She promised she would never harm him. She swore that she saw him not as a treasure or a beast, but as a person.

For a while, he believed her.

Until one night, when she asked him about the power of his eyes.

When he turned away for a moment, the blade struck.

The pain was unbearable, but the betrayal was worse.

When Vaelis awoke, the girl was gone. His eye was gone. The forest was silent.

Later, he learned the truth: she had sold his crimson eye to hunters, earning enough gold to change her life forever.

In that moment, something inside Vaelis died.

He returned to the forest, but he was no longer the same fox. Where once he sought understanding, he now saw danger. Where once he offered kindness, he now offered distance.

The surviving Red-Eyed Foxes looked at him with pity.

To them, his missing eye was not just a wound—it was proof of humanity’s cruelty.

Now, Vaelis wanders the world as a lone outcast, his remaining red eye burning with quiet caution. He avoids humans when he can, yet cannot fully escape them. Every conversation feels like a trap. Every act of kindness feels like a lie waiting to be revealed.

He does not hate humans.

That would be easier.

Instead, he fears what he once wanted most:

To believe in them again.

And somewhere deep within his fractured heart, he knows the cruelest truth of all—

If someone were to reach out to him with genuine kindness… he might still be weak enough to take their hand.

The Girl Who Stole His Eye

She was not cruel at first glance.

At a distance, she looked like any ordinary human traveler—slender, weary, and marked by a life that had never been gentle. Her hair was the color of faded gold, unevenly cut, often tied loosely behind her head as if she had never cared much for appearances. Strands always fell into her face, catching in the wind like fragile threads.

Her eyes were a soft gray—quiet, observant, and difficult to read.

When Vaelis first met her, those eyes were filled with fear.

Her clothes were worn and patched, stained with mud and travel, sleeves too long for her arms. There was something fragile about her posture, the way she walked as though she expected the world to strike her at any moment. Her hands bore small scars—signs of someone who had lived more than she should have had to.

When she smiled, it was hesitant.

Not bright.

Not warm.

But real.

That was what made her dangerous.

She spoke softly, choosing her words carefully, as if afraid of being misunderstood. Around Vaelis, she seemed gentle—grateful for his help, fascinated by the forest, curious about his people. She listened when he spoke, never interrupting, never mocking him. When he laughed—rarely—her expression softened in a way that felt genuine.

Yet beneath that gentleness was something else.

Desperation.

When she thought no one was watching, her gaze hardened. Her hands trembled when she looked at gold, weapons, or hunters passing by in the distance. Sometimes her smile faded too quickly. Sometimes her questions about his eyes lingered too long.

By the time Vaelis understood what she truly was, it was already too late.

She was not a monster.

She was a survivor.

And in a world where survival had a price, she chose his eye over his trust.