On the cold, damp soil of the forest, a small body lay limp. Around it, there was only the smell of leaf mold, an overly sweet fragrance drifting from some tree, and its own weak breathing. In a corner of its hazy consciousness, the memory of its mother collapsing right before its eyes just after giving birth flashed back. Hunger stabbed up from the pit of its stomach as pain, and it no longer had the strength to move even a single finger. That was when it happened. A nearby patch of grass rustled, and footsteps crunched closer. Through its hazy consciousness, it raised its wariness to the maximum, mustered the last of its strength, and somehow lifted its head. And there before its eyes was—*