I had once seen the eyes of a wounded beast.
It had been a snow leopard I encountered long ago on the snowy plains. I had gone hunting to provide food for the elf village when I came across a predator curled up in its den with an arrow lodged in its body.
Those blue flames had burned themselves so deeply into my mind.
The moment I came face-to-face with Seria, I recalled the scenery from that day. So many emotions were swirling together with such density that it was, rather, difficult to unravel their true nature from her gaze.
Anxiety, melancholy, hostility, murderous intent, and fear.
Those emotions had crystallized into a single whole, embedded within her eyes like jewels. Faced with that mournful work of art, my lips refused to part easily.
Her gaze bloomed like wildfire beneath a gray shadow. The girl, who had been glaring at me without saying a word, eventually lowered her head weakly.
It was another side of a wounded beast.
Weak, anguished, and powerless, her faltering voice tumbled out.
“……It’s my fault.”
Her first words were self-reproach.
I could say nothing in response to that damp, sodden voice. I merely let out a sigh and stepped forward.
“All…