Tony ran toward the forest plain.
It was late midnight, close to early morning, and the air was cold, filled with the quiet rustle of trees swaying gently in the breeze.
Gabby followed closely behind, tracing the route he had taken in an effort to catch up. But Tony wasn't moving in a straight path he was wandering, stepping through any opening he could find in the dense foliage, like someone trying to outrun more than just footsteps.
At a certain bend, Tony unknowingly took a direction slightly different from Gabby's. But she had lived around this region for years. The forest wasn't a maze to her — it was familiar ground. She knew the shortcuts, the turns, the hidden tracks, and she moved with speed and certainty.
Nearly an hour had passed.
Tony's sudden flight had turned the morning into a restless pursuit for Gabby. He made it a hard day for her, dragging her into his own whirlwind of confusion.
Eventually, Tony grew tired. His legs ached, his breath heavy.
He stopped beneath a tall, broad tree and leaned against it, eyes half-closed. His heart thudded in his chest as he tried to gather strength.
The sun was beginning to rise.
Thin golden rays stretched through the gaps between the trees, warming the forest floor with early morning light. Shadows danced, and dew shimmered on the leaves.
Gabby, still pushing forward, hadn't given up.
She slowed for a second, her thoughts spinning as fast as her feet.
"What if something happens to him?" she muttered under her breath.
Her eyes scanned the trees, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure.
"I have to find him."
She adjusted her grip on the sword at her back and pressed on, following the direction her gut told her Tony had taken. The forest may have been wide and uncertain, but her determination burned stronger than any fear.
She caught sight of him.
There, beneath the shadow of a large tree, Tony stood — or rather leaned — panting, exhausted, his elbow jutting slightly outward as he used it to brace himself. His hand supported the weight of his weary frame while sweat trickled down his face. The events of the other day—the chaos, the argument, the silent rage that had passed between them—came flooding back. And yet, here they were again, drawn into another uncertain moment.
Gabby moved with purpose, her steps steady but soft, careful not to alert him just yet. She didn't want him to bolt again.
She drew closer, sword in hand, her gaze fixed on him.
She was only a few steps away—right beside him now.
Still, Tony didn't notice her presence.
Then… she shifted her shoulder slightly.
The faint rustle of fabric and the subtle clink of metal broke the silence.
Tony's senses, already on edge, snapped to life. He whipped his head around with a sharp motion, still crouched low.
Boom. There she was.
Gabby.
His eyes widened.
She didn't say a word, only stood there. Her head tilted slightly to the side, her sword raised, not in threat, but like a quiet warning. The morning sunlight filtered through the canopy, and golden beams slipped through the strands of her hair. The soft glow caught the edges, giving her an ethereal look that stunned Tony for a heartbeat.
She looked… elegant.
Tony blinked, stunned more by her presence than by the blade.
He thought he could still run.
He began to slowly move his hand toward the sword socket on his side, trying to be subtle. As his fingers neared the hilt, he locked eyes with her, giving a half-smile—his usual trick to distract.
Gabby didn't flinch.
She stared right back, eyes calm, knowing exactly what he was up to.
Then she smirked.
"You left it," she said simply.
Tony's smirk faded.
He looked down at his side...
The sword socket was empty.
Tony was doing quite well—or so he thought.
Leaning back against the tree, he kept one foot pressed firmly against the bark, positioning himself for a quick forward launch. His eyes stayed fixed on Gabby, calculating, reading her next move even as he masked his thoughts with a calm expression.
"I'm sorry, Gabby," he said at last, voice low but steady. "I thought you were... a bad person or something. I was wrong."
He raised a hand, fingers open, a gesture of peace;or so it seemed.
Gabby stared at him, unmoving.
Tony's gaze was intense, like he truly meant what he said, but she knew better. She'd seen this trick before—maybe not exactly like this, but she could read him like pages in a worn book. Still, she played along. Her face softened just a little, and she reached out her hand in return.
Just as their fingers touched—
He shoved her.
A swift, strong push—not enough to hurt, but enough to throw her off balance.
But Gabby didn't fall.
Her instincts kicked in lightning-fast. She drove her sword into the ground beside her and used it as a brace, anchoring herself like a tree in a storm. She held her ground.
Tony, meanwhile, had already made a dash forward.
It was exactly as he planned. Just a small window—just a second—was all he needed.
He sprinted ahead, covering a short distance before suddenly vanishing into a hole in the ground with a crack! The sound of dry twigs snapping echoed through the quiet forest.
Gabby blinked once. Then twice.
"The dug hole..." she whispered to herself, shaking her head with a knowing smirk. "I knew he'd fall for it."
She took a slow step forward, sword still gripped in one hand.
She could have stopped him. Locked the blade between his legs as he ran. Tripped him with a strap. Thrown him flat on his back before he even reached the hole.
But she didn't.
Why?
Maybe she wanted to see how far he'd go.
Or maybe... she wanted to teach him something.
Because falling into a trap sometimes teaches more than being stopped.
She walked leisurely to the spot, the calm in her steps almost mocking.
The trap had done its job — it caught a trickster.
Gabby stood at the edge of the dug-out hole and looked down.
There he was — poor Tony, slouched inside the pit like a defeated fox. His chest rose and fell heavily, sweat streaked across his face. He looked drained, every breath a silent admission of his failed escape.
The hole wasn't deep enough to hold a man like him for long ; his height gave him a chance. But he had little strength left. The run, the stress, the games , they had worn him out.
Gabby narrowed her eyes, her lips curled slightly into a smirk.
She raised her sword slowly and pointed it right at him, the sunlight glinting off its edge.
Tony looked up at her, half annoyed, half embarrassed.
The morning breeze whispered through the trees above them, but down in that hole ,it was all heat and tension.
Her voice rang down the hole, bold and playful, but with a sharp edge:
"WHO ARE YOU, DEAR?"