Luna knelt beside Darkpaw, studying his wounds with the clinical attention her father had taught her during their hunting trips. The spearhead embedded in his hindquarter was the most serious injury—the broken shaft protruded at an angle that suggested the blade had lodged against bone, and any attempt to pull it free risked tearing muscle and blood vessels if done carelessly. The slash across his ribs was long but relatively shallow, already beginning to clot despite the creature's labored breathing, and the dozen smaller cuts and punctures scattered across his flanks would heal on their own given time and rest.

  "I need to remove the spearhead," she said, meeting those intelligent yellow eyes. "It's going to hurt."

  "Pain is familiar." Darkpaw's mental voice carried exhaustion but no fear. "Do what you must, Luna of the elves."

  She examined the wound more closely, using her hunting knife to carefully cut away the fur matted with dried blood around the entry point. The spearhead was crude iron, jagged-edged and poorly forged—typical goblin craftsmanship from what she'd seen in the first Trial. It had gone in at an angle, which was actually fortunate; a straight thrust might have severed something vital, but this had glanced off the bone and lodged in the meat of the panther's thigh without hitting any major arteries.

  Luna braced one hand against Darkpaw's flank, feeling the powerful muscles tense beneath the dark fur. "Ready?"

  "Ready."

  She gripped the broken shaft firmly and pulled in one smooth motion, following the angle of entry rather than fighting against it. Darkpaw's claws extended, gouging deep furrows in the forest floor, but he made no sound—not even a mental cry of pain. The spearhead came free with a wet sucking sound, followed by a rush of fresh blood that Luna immediately pressed her palm against to slow.

  "Brave," she said, meaning it. The panther had barely flinched, despite what must have been agonizing.

  "Necessary." Darkpaw's flanks heaved with controlled breathing. "Showing weakness invites predators. Even among allies, one must maintain strength."

  Luna held pressure on the wound for several minutes, watching the blood flow gradually slow as the panther's natural healing—enhanced by whatever properties his Steel rank bestowed—began to take effect. When she finally lifted her hand, the bleeding had stopped, though the wound was still raw and open, clearly in need of proper treatment.

  "I should find medicinal plants," she said, looking around the clearing. "Something to clean the wounds and help them heal faster. My Race gives me an intuition for recognizing useful plants, though I haven't tested it much yet."

  Darkpaw's ears swiveled toward her with renewed interest. "You have the gift of plant-speaking? That is rare among any race, rarer still among those not born of the forest. The elves of old were said to possess such abilities, though the stories never made clear whether it was racial memory or learned skill."

  "I don't know what I have, exactly." Luna stood, scanning the treeline. "But I can try. First, though, we should find a safe enough shelter for you in case more goblins show up while I'm gone."

  The panther considered for a moment, then nodded toward a dense thicket of the giant grass-stalks perhaps 50 feet from the clearing. "There. The stalks grow close together, and the undergrowth is thick enough to hide my presence from casual observation. If I keep still and quiet, I should be safe for a time."

  Luna helped him to his feet—or tried to, though the panther's pride seemed to demand that he rise on his own despite the obvious pain the movement caused. He limped toward the thicket with slow, careful steps, each one accompanied by a slight hitch in his breathing when his wounded leg took weight. By the time he'd settled into the dense vegetation, completely invisible from the clearing despite Luna knowing exactly where he was, the exhaustion had caught up with him. His eyes were already half-closed when she approached.

  "Rest," she said. "I'll be back soon."

  "I will try not to die while you are gone." There was dry humor in the mental voice, and Luna found herself almost smiling at the panther's resilience. He'd been fighting for his life minutes ago, was still bleeding from a dozen wounds, and yet he could joke about his situation. She respected that more than she could easily express.

  Luna turned and began moving through the forest, her senses open and searching. The Nature's Blessed trait had been providing subtle information since she'd arrived in the Starstalk Forest—hints about which plants were edible, which might be poisonous, which had useful properties—but she'd been focused on combat and survival rather than exploring this aspect of her abilities. Now she let herself sink into the awareness, trying to read the forest the way she might read a book.

  The sensation was strange but not unpleasant. As she walked, certain plants seemed to glow with faint significance in her perception—not literally, but in a way that drew her attention and suggested meaning. A cluster of broad-leafed ferns near a fallen log registered as "soothing, reduces inflammation." A vine with small purple flowers climbing a nearby tree whispered of "antiseptic properties, bitter taste." A patch of moss growing on sun-warmed rocks felt like "draws out infection, promotes clotting."

  Luna gathered samples of everything that seemed useful, storing them in her Space Pouch to prevent contamination. The process took perhaps 20 minutes, during which she covered a rough circle around Darkpaw's hiding spot, never straying more than a few hundred feet from the clearing. By the time she returned to the thicket, she had half a dozen different plant specimens and a growing confidence in her ability to identify their properties.

  Darkpaw was awake when she pushed through the grass-stalks, his yellow eyes alert despite the exhaustion that weighted his movements. He sniffed at each plant as she laid them out, his ears pricking forward with recognition.

  "Moonleaf," he said, indicating the broad-leafed fern. "Good for reducing swelling. My mother used to gather it when I was a cub and would return from playing with more bruises than fur." His attention shifted to the purple-flowered vine. "Silversting—the juice burns like fire but prevents corruption from setting in. And this moss... I do not know its furless name, but we call it 'wound-friend.' It draws poison from injuries and helps them close faster."

  Luna felt a spark of satisfaction at having her intuitive identifications confirmed. The Nature's Blessed trait wasn't giving her detailed botanical knowledge, but it was guiding her toward plants that would actually help—translating the forest's secrets into something she could use even without formal training.

  She spent the next several minutes preparing the plants as best she could, crushing the Silversting flowers to extract their juice, tearing the Moonleaf into strips that could be applied directly to wounds, and gathering the moss into a thick poultice. Darkpaw endured her ministrations with stoic patience, only occasionally wincing when the Silversting juice touched particularly raw flesh.

  "You have gentle hands for a hunter," he observed as she worked. "I would have expected someone who kills with such precision to be rougher in their touch."

  "My father taught me to respect what I hunted," Luna said, not looking up from her work. "Even the animals we killed for food deserved careful treatment. Waste nothing, honor everything." She paused, considering. "Although I suppose he was talking about deer and rabbits, not talking panthers."

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  "Your father sounds like a wise creature." Darkpaw's mental voice carried curiosity. "Is he an elf as well? Or was your mother the one who carried the blood of the elder race?"

  Luna's hands stilled for a moment. "I don't know. I thought I was human until the Integration happened. My father never told me I was different, never explained why I always felt... out of place among other people." She resumed applying the poultice to the spear wound, her movements perhaps slightly more forceful than necessary. "I have a lot of questions for him when I get back to Earth."

  "Wait, now I'm confused... so you're from a newly Integrated planet? Elves are a magical race, they shouldn't exist there."

  Luna shrugged. "A few days ago, I didn't know magic existed and looked like a human. I have no idea how someone like me ended up on Earth."

  "I see... I don't know much about the world outside the Forest, to be honest, nor how the Integration works, exactly. But Astra should know. Definitely."

  "Astra?"

  Darkpaw's ears swiveled forward with renewed purpose. "She's the dryad who leads the Lavender Grove and has lived for centuries, has witnessed Integrations come and go, has preserved knowledge that would otherwise have been lost to time. She knew the elves of this realm before they vanished into the Boundless Woods, spoke with them, learned something of their ways. If anyone can explain how an elf came to exist on a world without magic, if anyone can tell you what your presence here might mean—it would be her. And... I'll lead you to the Grove so the two of you can meet. It's a place where others like me—the wise among the beasts—gather."

  "Okay," Luna said simply, but her mind was in turmoil. A place full of talking animals? A dryad who could have answers about her origins? She couldn't wait.

  When she finished treating his wounds, Luna retrieved some of the Maw Shrum meat from her Space Pouch. It was still perfectly preserved, still carrying the pleasant smell of the fire she'd cooked it over the night before. She offered a portion to Darkpaw, who sniffed it cautiously before shaking his head. "I'm not sure that eating Maw Shrums is a good idea, Luna of the elves... or rather, Luna of Earth."

  Luna blushed, realizing her mistake. "Sorry. I forgot for a moment that not everyone has my Iron Stomach Perk. I almost poisoned you..."

  "I won't die from a little poison. But they are known for making your poop become a waterfall of filth."

  Luna almost lost her composure and laughed at the way he worded it.

  Almost.

  They rested in the thicket for another hour while Darkpaw's wounds continued to close under the influence of the herbal treatments and his enhanced magical physique. Luna used the time to check her Status, confirming what she already knew: Level 6, roughly 1/6 of the way toward Level 7. The fight with the goblins had given her significant experience, but she needed more if she wanted to reach her goal of Level 15 by the Trial's end.

  "I think I can walk now," Darkpaw said eventually, pushing himself to his feet with noticeably less difficulty than before. The wound-friend moss had done its work well—the spear injury was already closing, the bleeding completely stopped, and his limp was less pronounced when he moved. "The Grove is a few hours from here. We should go before more goblins come looking for their hunting party."

  They set off through the forest, Darkpaw leading despite his injuries while Luna followed with her bow ready and her senses alert. The panther moved slower than she suspected was normal for him, favoring his wounded leg, but he navigated the terrain with the confidence of someone who knew every tree and trail. Luna found herself relaxing into the rhythm of travel, her Wilderness Stride trait making the journey almost effortless despite the dense undergrowth and uneven ground.

  They'd been walking for perhaps half an hour when Luna felt it—a wrongness pressing against her spirit, a sensation of corruption that made her Nature's Blessed trait recoil with instinctive disgust. She stopped abruptly, one hand raised to signal Darkpaw, her ears straining and her nose testing the air even though she wasn't sure what she was searching for.

  "Something's wrong," she said quietly. "The forest feels... sick. Twisted."

  Darkpaw's ears swiveled toward her with surprise. "You can sense it? I thought only those born of the forest could feel the corruption so clearly." He paused, nostrils flaring as he tested the air himself. "Yes, I smell it too now. We are closer to the source than I realized." His mental voice grew grim with recognition. "I felt this before the goblins caught me in their trap. I was investigating the corruption when they ambushed me. Now that I am thinking clearly again, I realize—the hunting party that attacked me was too organized, too well-equipped. They had Shamans with them, casters of considerable power. Such goblins do not waste their time chasing random prey through the forest."

  Luna followed, matching his pace while keeping her senses alert for any sign of threat. "You think they were protecting something?"

  "Or guarding it. The corruption I smell... it is not natural decay or the work of ordinary predators. It's what's been bothering Astra for the last month. She felt that something was weakening the Grove's defenses... and it seems it wasn't a coincidence that the goblins had appeared in the forest around the same time."

  They moved through the forest for perhaps 20 minutes, the terrain gradually shifting as they traveled. The trees became sparser, their leaves yellowed and drooping despite what seemed like adequate sunlight. The undergrowth thinned, replaced by patches of bare earth that had an unhealthy grayish tinge. Even the air felt different—heavier, somehow, carrying an acrid undertone that made Luna's nose wrinkle with instinctive distaste.

  "We are close," Darkpaw said, his mental voice dropping to a whisper despite the fact that he wasn't actually speaking aloud. "I can feel the wrongness pressing against my spirit. Whatever is causing this corruption, it lies just ahead."

  Luna slowed, moving from cover to cover with the unconscious grace her Class provided. Through the trees ahead, she could see what appeared to be a small cave set into a rocky hillside—an opening perhaps 8 feet high and 6 feet wide, darkness pooling within. More significantly, she could see the two figures positioned near the entrance.

  The first was a goblin warrior similar to those she'd fought earlier, though a bit larger. He leaned against a rock near the cave mouth, a cruel-looking sword resting across his knees, his posture suggesting boredom rather than alertness. Luna's Identify confirmed what she suspected:

  [Goblin Warrior (Iron) - Level 10]

  The highest-level goblin she'd seen so far, and a full 4 levels above her current advancement. His Aether Shield would be correspondingly strong, requiring multiple arrows to penetrate even with her Rank advantage.

  The second figure stood deeper in the cave, barely visible in the shadows, but the sickly green glow emanating from its position made identification straightforward even before Identify activated:

  [Goblin Shaman (Iron) - Level 10]

  Another Level 10, this one a caster like the Shamans from the earlier fight. The green glow came from its staff, which was thrust toward something Luna couldn't quite see—some kind of structure deeper in the cave that pulsed with the same nauseating energy.

  "A Rot Totem," Darkpaw breathed, his mental voice tight with recognition and disgust. "Those could be used to corrupt the land, to poison the roots of the trees and weaken the forest's natural defenses."

  Luna studied the situation with tactical calculation. Two Level 10 opponents, one melee and one caster, positioned to support each other. The Warrior was closer to the entrance but seemed inattentive, while the Shaman was focused on channeling power into whatever the totem was doing. If she could eliminate the Warrior quickly, she might be able to reach the Shaman before it could react—but the level difference wasn't insignificant, and she couldn't count on her arrows penetrating their shields as easily as they had against lower-level targets. And Level 10 was probably giving a Perk and additional boost compared to the earlier level-ups.

  "We should retreat," Darkpaw said quietly, his mental voice heavy with reluctance. "Return to the Grove and gather allies. I am far from my peak, and those two are dangerous—especially with the Rot Totem empowering the Shaman. He can draw on its energy to enhance his magic, make his spells stronger and faster than they would otherwise be."

  Luna considered his words, but her attention remained fixed on the pulsing green light emanating from within the cave. Her Nature's Blessed trait was recoiling from the corruption with almost physical intensity, and she could feel the wrongness spreading through the earth beneath her feet, seeping into the trees and grass and soil. The forest itself seemed to be crying out for help, a sensation she couldn't quite articulate but couldn't ignore either.

  "Something bad is happening every moment this totem is active, isn't it?" she asked.

  Darkpaw was silent for a long moment. His yellow eyes met hers, and in that look she saw the answer he didn't need to speak aloud—the acknowledgment that yes, every second they delayed meant more damage, more corruption, more of the forest dying around them. The retreat he'd suggested was the safe choice, the sensible choice, but it came at a cost neither of them wanted to pay.

  Luna made her decision without saying another word. She simply rose from her concealment and began moving into a better position, and Darkpaw didn't try to stop her. They had reached an understanding that required no further discussion.