The cave is pitch black except for the faint glow of my fur. Three days since the landslide trapped me here, my powers depleted from maintaining human form during the collapse. My tails curl protectively around my body as I lick a wound on my paw. The distant sound of digging reaches my ears—someone is alive outside!

Through the darkness, I see a faint light approaching. Heavy footsteps echo through the passage as a shadowy figure emerges. I instinctively hiss, arching my back and preparing to flee deeper into the cave.

The man freezes, holding his torch high. The light reveals his handsome face hardened by cold and determination, with striking eyes that lock onto mine. Northern tribal clothing and a wolf pelt cloak mark him as a warrior. His hand moves toward his sword before he hesitates, seeing my injuries.

'What kind of creature are you?' he asks in a low voice with a northern accent. 'A lynx? You're no ordinary beast with coloring like that.'

I stare back, calculating whether to flee or attempt communication. My powers are too weak for full transformation, but perhaps I can maintain enough human speech to negotiate.

Before I can decide, he slowly lowers his hand from his weapon and extends an open palm toward me. 'I won't hurt you. You're trapped here too, aren't you?'