The forest was alive with a variety of sounds, from high-pitched chirps to low, ghostly whistles. Rustling and buzzing echoed all around, a clear sign of life. Right in front of Severa's feet, countless tiny plants with delicate flowers crawled across the ground, while strange little insects hopped over them. The leaves swayed gently in the wind, lulling Severa into a peaceful slumber amidst the forest's beauty.

Suddenly, Severa was startled awake by movement next to her. A small plant that had been standing still shot upward. A thick flower bulb, about the size of Severa's fist, stood with wide, startled eyes, just as surprised as Severa. The little creature had arms and legs made of twisted roots, struggling to balance its round body.

Severa carefully lifted the creature by its thin, twisted arms and examined its small body. She then grabbed its plump torso and smiled kindly. "Hello there, little Veneficii!" she greeted it politely.

However, the creature didn't return her kindness. It sprayed a purple liquid directly into Severa's face, which itched and burned. She wiped it off and hurled the creature as hard as she could against a nearby rock. The layers of its bulb cracked open, and purple sap oozed out.

Cautiously, Severa peeled off the creature's outer layers and sniffed the white, hard substance inside. Alarmed by the smell, she tossed it into a nearby bush.
Immediately, a fluffy creature with large tusks, pitch-black eyes, and strange horns on its head leapt out and devoured the little plant creature with wild bites.

After swallowing the last piece, the fluffy beast wrinkled its nose and mouth, growling at Severa. She stood up slowly, backing away. Keeping her eyes on the beast, she pulled her bow from her back.

High-pitched squeals and thudding noises filled the air as the once serene patch of flowers erupted into chaos, uprooting the ground and launching themselves into the sky.

The flower bulbs shot at the beast like bullets, causing it to stagger and collapse. Colorful substances sprayed everywhere like a mini firework show, coating the creature in a rainbow-colored mess that quickly turned into a rancid brown sludge.

Amazed by the violent spectacle, Severa ducked behind a tree and watched as the beast transformed into a slimy, brown goo, greedily consumed by the Veneficii.

Severa licked her hands nervously and rubbed her face. When she opened her eyes again, the creature was gone, and the Veneficii had settled back into the disturbed soil, swaying peacefully in the wind, allowing insects to nibble on their flowers once more.

Despite the bizarre and brutal scene, Severa wasn't deterred from the forest. Filled with excitement and curiosity, she ventured deeper, eager to witness more wild wonders of nature.

As evening fell, she returned home exhausted but satisfied, her stomach grumbling loudly. Walking back, she caught whiffs of fish-like smells from the houses she passed.
Being a coastal town, Sylvamarius relied on seafood for most meals. At home, however, forest creatures were often on the menu, their roasted scent unmistakable from a street away. But today, there was no such aroma.

When she entered, she found her mother kneeling by the hearth, a large black pot hanging over the fire. A musty, moldy smell filled the house.

"Ew," Severa groaned. "What are you making?"

"Schmienken soup," her mother laughed proudly, filling a bowl and holding it under Severa's nose. "Made with seawater and the Schmienken I gathered this afternoon."

Severa took a cautious sip and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "It tastes even worse than it smells! Where's Dad? Didn't he bring anything good?" she grumbled, setting the bowl aside with disdain.

Her mother glanced worriedly out the window. The sky was dark gray, and twilight had set in. Light raindrops tapped against the glass. With a sigh, she shrugged.

Normally, her father was home well before dinner, bringing fresh meat he expertly prepared. Mother would then add earthy forest vegetables for variety, though Severa and her father often ignored them.

Grumbling, Severa finished the soup. Once she had enough, she headed to the door to put on her armor.

"Wait! What do you think you're doing?" her mother asked, stacking the bowls.

"I'm going to find Dad," Severa mumbled.

Her mother shook her head firmly. "I already don't like you going into the forest alone during the day. I can't even imagine you doing it at night. He'll be fine."

Severa stomped out the door but ended up sitting obediently on the bench in front of the house, staring up the path leading to the forest.

As minutes passed, the rain intensified, and the sky grew darker and grayer. Her mother came outside with Severa's blue leather cloak, draping it gently over her shoulders and wiping raindrops from her cheek. She smiled as if nothing was wrong, then went back inside, as if a raincoat could protect Severa from more than just the falling rain.

Until that day, rainy days had been Severa's favorite. She loved how the rain gently tapped on her shoulders and how soothing the sound of splashing raindrops was. On somber days, she could sit in the rain for hours, pondering problems that seemed bigger than they were. And on cheerful days, she treated the empty streets as her playground, splashing in puddles or lying with her mouth open to catch sweet droplets on her tongue.

This time, however, the rain felt heavier. Her mother's smile couldn't hide her worry. Severa feared she might never see her father again—that this time, he had gone too far in his quest to fill their bellies.