The silence stretched between them as Daniel finished. The three Soven exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Daniel couldn’t tell what was being decided, but he desperately hoped for the best.

  The only sounds came from the faint rustling of trees outside. Every second dragged on, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on him.

  Finally, Thun’s voice broke the stillness, steady and calm. “It is acceptable.”

  Freyiik, who had been watching him intently, gave a slow nod. “Good job,” she said, her tone carrying just the faintest hint of approval.

  The tight coil of tension in Daniel’s chest unraveled, and he almost collapsed with relief. He wasn’t going to have to start over—not this time.

  Thun gestured toward Zir. “Zir will oversee your work. He is the one responsible for crafting among us.”

  Daniel nodded, trying to steady his nerves. It made sense that the one who judged his traps would also be in charge of making things. Though he didn’t know much about Zir yet, the Soven’s intense focus during the demonstration left little doubt about his skill.

  “Starting tomorrow, you will begin your work,” Thun continued, his tone firm yet final. “For now, take the rest of the day to rest and gather your strength. Use this time wisely.”

  With that, Daniel was ushered out of the room. He found himself standing in the open air, unsure of what to do next. All his focus had been on proving himself; he hadn’t spared a single thought for what came after.

  The sound of soft steps beside him almost startled him, and he barely managed to suppress a yelp when Freyiik appeared at his side. Though she had lost her ability to shift, her quiet approach made it clear she hadn’t exaggerated her claim of being the best hunter.

  “Congratulations are in order, Daniel,” she said, her voice warm. “After speaking with you today, I had hoped you would succeed. I am glad you did.”

  Daniel rubbed the back of his head, feeling a mixture of pride and awkwardness. “Yeah, me too. Honestly, you were a big help today, so… thank you for that.”

  Freyiik smiled at Daniel’s gratitude. “You’ve earned some rest after today, but if you’d like, you can come with me. I live nearby with my mate and children. I’m sure they’ll be curious to meet you.”

  Daniel blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Uh, yeah, sure. That sounds… nice.”

  Freyiik led the way through the winding paths of the Soven settlement. They soon arrived at a modest but sturdy-looking dwelling tucked under the protective branches of a large tree.

  As they stepped inside, Daniel was greeted by the sound of laughter and the sight of two small Soven children darting around the room. They froze when they spotted him, their wide, curious eyes scanning him from head to toe.

  “Is this the human?” one of them asked, their voice high-pitched with excitement.

  “Yes,” Freyiik replied, her tone fond as she ushered them forward. “This is Daniel. Be polite.”

  Before anyone could say anything else, a blur of movement from above sent Daniel stumbling forward. A small Soven child dropped from the ceiling, landing with a thud on his back. He yelped in surprise as the weight clung to him. The child let out a delighted laugh, clearly pleased with their ambush.

  “Hey! Get off him!” Freyiik snapped, her voice carrying a warning edge.

  The child clinging to Daniel’s back gave a playful growl but hopped off, a toothy grin still on their face.

  Another Soven entered from the side room at the commotion. He was tall and lean, his scaled body shifting colors slowly. “Ah, so you’re the one everyone’s been talking about,” he said, his voice calm but curious. “I’m Iisk, Freyiik’s mate.”

  Daniel straightened, shaking off the surprise. “Uh, thanks. Nice to meet you.”

  The children, no longer distracted by their pouncing antics, gathered around him, their excitement still bubbling over.

  One of the children leaned in close to Daniel, peering at his smooth skin. “Why are your scales so smooth? Don’t they get cold?”

  Daniel laughed awkwardly. “Well, humans don’t have scales like you do. We keep warm in different ways, I guess.”

  Another child looked up at his teeth and asked, “Why don’t you have sharp teeth like us? Don’t you need them to hunt?”

  Daniel scratched the back of his head, unsure how to explain. “I guess we’re built differently. My teeth are designed for grinding and chewing food. We don’t hunt the same way you do, so I don’t really need sharp teeth like yours.”

  Freyiik chuckled, clearly trying to hide her annoyance at the children’s antics. “Don’t let them overwhelm you, Daniel. They’re just excited. It’s not every day they meet someone so different.”

  Despite his initial nervousness, Daniel found himself relaxing as the children’s questions became more playful than probing. It felt… nice, this sliver of normalcy, even if it was surrounded by the unfamiliar.

  The next morning, Daniel was woken up bright and early by Zir. He’d been sleeping soundly and groggily woke up when he felt something prod his side.

  He nearly yelped, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the Soven looming over him, his sharp eyes unblinking and focused.

  The amount of times I’ve been startled is becoming annoying.

  “It is time to get to work,” Zir said, his voice calm but firm. “You’ll be joining me in the workshop today. We have much to do.”

  Daniel rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess. “Right, right… workshop,” he mumbled. He glanced around the room to get his bearings, but his mind was still foggy.

  Zir didn’t seem to notice Daniel’s slight confusion. “Meet me outside when you’re ready,” he said, before stepping back and disappearing through the doorway without a second glance.

  As the silence settled back in, Daniel sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and stretched. There was no turning back now—he had a day of work ahead of him.

  Stumbling outside, Daniel blinked as sunlight filtered through the trees. It was very early in the morning, the world still hazy with the remnants of night. Daniel was used to early mornings, though, and quickly psyched himself up to cross the bridges.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Zir, who had been walking ahead of him, paused and glanced over his shoulder. “You are scared of the bridges,” he said, more a statement than a question.

  Daniel sighed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not the bridges, per se. Just heights in general. Never been good with them.”

  Zir grunted in acknowledgment, unfazed by Daniel’s discomfort, and began his walk again. Daniel followed, his eyes fixed on his feet as they crossed one bridge after another. The platforms stretched high above the forest floor, and each creak beneath his feet made his stomach tighten. He forced himself to breathe, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the dizzying drop below. It wasn’t until they had crossed several more bridges that the feeling of vertigo started to fade.

  Eventually, they reached a more stable structure—a small workshop tucked beneath the thick canopy. The walls were made of sturdy wood, and there was a faint scent of earth and resin in the air. The space was cramped but well-organized, with shelves of tools and materials lining the walls. Workbenches filled with half-finished projects and intricate designs stood in every corner, and Daniel couldn’t help but be impressed by the neatness of it all.

  “This is where we will be working,” Zir said, his voice steady, before pausing and glancing at Daniel. “Have you eaten yet?”

  Daniel’s stomach answered for him with a low, unmistakable growl. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now. He’d had a few berries tucked away in his clothes earlier, but they were gone, and he hadn’t figured out what to do for food yet. The thought of eating raw meat like the Soven made him uneasy, but that was the least of his problems now.

  “No, I haven’t,” Daniel admitted, rubbing his stomach absently.

  Zir eyed him for a moment before grunting again. “We will take care of that soon. But first, you will work.”

  Leading him to one of the benches, Zir sat Daniel down with a firm gesture. “You will make more of the traps you made yesterday. Afterwards, you will tell me how it is enhanced. You will repeat this until I say you are done.”

  Struck by the bluntness, Daniel swallowed and responded, “Yes, sir.”

  Zir didn’t miss a beat. “What type of food can you eat? Can you eat meat, or are you like an alithsr?”

  Daniel blinked at the unfamiliar term but assumed it referred to some sort of herbivore. “I can eat meat, but it has to be cooked.”

  “Hmm, very well.” With a final nod, Zir turned and walked down one of the bridges without waiting for a reply.

  Daniel watched him go, feeling a little put out by the bluntness of the exchange but quickly shaking it off. He was here to work. The materials for the traps were within easy reach, neatly stacked and organized. The tools were unfamiliar at first, but he quickly deduced their purpose. He was more adept than he thought at figuring out their uses, and after a few attempts, the motions became second nature.

  He began assembling the first trap, his hands moving with growing confidence. The process felt smoother than it had the day before, as though his body was learning to adapt faster. He fell into a rhythm, the repetitive motions almost meditative.

  As the trap neared completion, Daniel noticed the subtle changes brought by the System’s enhancements. Each trap he made seemed slightly more refined than the last. The triggers were smoother, the components better made, the mechanisms more precise. The System wasn’t just rewarding his efforts—it was honing his skills in a way he hadn’t realized would happen.

  When he finished the first trap, he set it aside and began another, his curiosity piqued by the incremental improvements. He analyzed each one carefully, noting the unique enhancements the System applied.

  As he worked, Daniel noticed there were no System messages popping up. He assumed the rewards wouldn’t come until the session was complete. Instead, he focused on the work itself, letting the anticipation of his progress drive him.

  How many stats will I get this time? If I got 4 from making three traps yesterday, how many will I get for today’s work?

  By the time Zir returned, Daniel had finished several traps, each one more polished than the last. The anticipation of what he might gain from the System lingered in the back of his mind, but for now, he focused on the task at hand.

  He was so immersed in crafting that he didn’t hear Zir approach. Only when the faint creak of wood underfoot broke his concentration did Daniel turn to find the Soven standing in the doorway, holding a simple wooden plate with what appeared to be raw meat.

  The sight gave Daniel pause, his brow furrowing. “I can’t eat raw meat, remember?”

  Zir grunted, stepping further into the workshop. “Yes, I remember. Continue your work.”

  Thrown off but not wanting to argue, Daniel hesitated for a moment before returning to his traps. He couldn’t shake the confusion entirely, though—why would Zir bring him something like that? Still, he focused on assembling the next mechanism, his hands moving with practiced precision.

  As he secured the final piece of a trap, a savory aroma wafted through the air, sharp and mouthwatering. Daniel blinked and glanced toward the source, surprised to find Zir leaning slightly over the plate of meat. The Soven wasn’t doing much of anything—just running the flat of his hand slowly over the food, as if brushing away invisible dust.

  The raw, red flesh began to brown and crisp along the edges, the smell deepening into something tantalizing. Daniel tilted his head, his curiosity flaring. It didn’t make sense. There wasn’t any fire, no cooking tools, and yet the meat was visibly changing.

  “Is… is that cooking?” Daniel asked, unable to stop himself.

  Zir didn’t look up, his focus remaining on the plate. “Eat when you’re done,” he said curtly, brushing his hand over the meat again.

  Daniel’s confusion only grew, but Zir’s tone left no room for questioning. Swallowing his curiosity, he returned to his work, though his thoughts kept drifting back to the strange sight.

  He barely managed to finish another trap before the scent became nearly overwhelming, a rich, smoky aroma that made his stomach growl loudly. Daniel glanced back again, watching Zir as the soven calmly turned the meat over with his fingers, seemingly unaffected by the heat that should have been there.

  By the time Daniel was close to finishing his second trap, the smell of the cooked meat was nearly unbearable, and his stomach felt like it was tying itself in knots. He cast one last glance at Zir, who had already set the plate down on the edge of a nearby workbench, its contents steaming faintly.

  Finishing up, Daniel hurried over to the plate. His stomach was gnawing at him, urging him to eat. As he approached, he hesitated for a brief moment, realizing he didn’t have any utensils. But then again, none of the Soven he had seen eat so far had bothered with them, so he shrugged and picked up the meat with his bare hands, tearing into it ravenously.

  The rich, smoky flavor was nothing short of satisfying. As he chewed, Zir moved toward the traps, his sharp eyes scanning the mechanisms Daniel had crafted.

  “How are these enhanced?” Zir’s voice was steady, but Daniel could sense the underlying curiosity in his tone.

  Between mouthfuls, Daniel swallowed and wiped his hand on his pants before responding. “Most have normal enhancements—stealthier triggers and better ways to draw in prey. Almost all of them have enhanced durability—stronger rope, reinforced wood, that sort of thing.”

  Zir nodded, his eyes flicking from one trap to the next, taking in the subtle adjustments Daniel had made. “Interesting,” he murmured, though his expression remained unreadable, neither approving nor disapproving. “And what about the others?”

  Daniel took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “The others are... weirder. One emits a low hum that attracts prey. Another injects a paralysis agent into anything it captures, freezing them in place. There’s even one that resets itself after catching something, storing the prey somehow for you to grab it.”

  Zir didn’t respond immediately, his sharp eyes glinting with interest. Daniel continued eating, his attention split between the food and the silent scrutiny he felt from Zir.

  Finishing the last bite of meat, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, he glanced up at Zir, who was already looking back at him with those piercing, calculating eyes.

  “Thanks for the food,” Daniel said, offering a brief nod of gratitude.

  Zir gave a short grunt in response, not offering any further words, and turned back to inspect the traps.

  Daniel stood up and stretched. It was time to get back to work. With a final glance at Zir, he turned his attention back to his traps, focusing on finishing the next one.

  He could hear Zir start to work on his own traps, but he refused to let it distract him. His hands moved quickly and precisely, the quiet rhythm of his work settling him into a steady pace.

  For a while, the only sounds in the workshop were the quiet clicks and thuds of wood and metal fitting together, the soft scrape of tools. The faint smell of cooked meat lingered, but he barely noticed it now, absorbed in his work.

  Zir remained a constant presence, his focus shifting between Daniel and the traps, though he said nothing more. Daniel didn’t mind. It felt nice to be able to just work, without any distractions or pressure.

  The day slipped away, and as the traps took shape, Daniel felt like he’d taken a step forward.