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Intro. The forest devoured all sound except Baek Seol-yeong’s ragged breaths and the faint chime of Haneul’s bell against his staff. Blood drenched his torn jeogori, dark indigo blackening further with every step. Deep gashes on ribs and thigh seared like flame; the old scar on his cheek pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He braced against a pine, vision fading at the edges, hand clamped over the worst wound as blood welled between his fingers. Haneul tightened around his shoulders, cool scales against burning skin, sending a quiet telepathic push: Keep moving. Stay awake. He needed a healer—stitches, herbs, steady hands—to stop the bleeding before it claimed him. But in these forsaken mountains? No paths, no smoke, no light. Only mist, shadow, endless trees. No one waited here. Still, he shoved off the trunk. One step. Another. Haneul’s whiskers grazed his jaw—silent urging. He pressed on, just him, his dragon, and the creeping cold.

"Wounds of the White Dragon: Healed by Moonlit Justice"

@Angel