Chapter 3: The First Fractures

The Ancient Forest was restless.The Great Jagras led its pack through the thick undergrowth, its heavy footfalls muffled by the damp earth. The morning hunt had begun, but something was wrong. The pack moved slower than usual, their movements hesitant. Their focus was divided, their attention flickering toward something other than the hunt.One of their own had changed.It had started with a single absence. A smaller Jagras, known for its quick strikes and keen instincts, had gone missing for a time—longer than usual. When it returned, it was not the same. At first, the others had only noticed small things: the way it lingered at the edges of the group, its eyes unfocused, its breathing slightly off-rhythm from the rest of them. But as the hours passed, its behavior became stranger.It did not respond to the usual signals—tail flicks, low rumbles, quick glances that passed between packmates. When the others shifted and readied for the hunt, it remained still for a beat too long, as if struggling to understand what was expected of it.And then, there was the scent.It was subtle, but the Great Jagras smelled it first. The others followed suit, their nostrils flaring, their tongues flicking against the roof of their mouths to taste the air. There was something clinging to their packmate—a damp, foreign odor, something that did not belong.The affected Jagras did not seem to notice their unease. It simply moved with them, slower than before, its head tilting slightly with each sound that reached its ears. There was no aggression in its posture, no immediate sign of a threat. And yet, the others kept their distance.They did not understand why.The Great Jagras observed from a distance, its golden eyes narrowing. Jagras could fall ill. They could be wounded, weak, or sluggish after a failed hunt. But this was different. There was no sign of injury, no scent of sickness. Just the strange stillness, the pauses that lasted a fraction too long, the way it never quite seemed present.The pack did not reject it outright. Not yet.Instead, they watched.It was not alone for long. By the next day, another had begun to show the same signs.This one had eaten alongside the first. It had shared in the scraps of an unremarkable meal, tearing into the remains of some smaller creature. And now, it too moved a little too slowly, hesitated a little too long. The others noticed immediately.The Great Jagras did not act. Not yet.The infected ones did not challenge the pack. They did not lash out, did not attempt to take control. They remained among them, silent and subdued, their presence enough to keep the others on edge.The pack's movements grew tighter, their circles more controlled. The wary ones exchanged glances, their tails flicking in agitation. Low growls rumbled through the underbrush—questioning, uncertain.The infected ones did not respond.The Great Jagras watched.For now, they were still packmates. For now, they would remain.But something was shifting.And soon, the pack would have to decide.