The Heart of the Ancient Wood

The ancient wood stretches like a glass‑thin veil of shadow, its silence so tense it feels ready to shatter at the slightest note. Sunlight filters through high spruce and birch, turning far branches into near whispers and giving the forest an almost elvish illusion. A forgotten trail, worn by bear cubs, caribou and the occasional lumberman’s axe, winds up a gentle slope where moss and water keep the stones bare. Animals move unseen—panthers, nuthatches, moose—each sound a delicate thread in the wood’s timeless tapestry.

Into this quiet world steps Dave Titus, a grizzled lumberman who carries more tools than weapons, his bundle rattling with tins and a lone frying pan. Years of cutting and farming have taught him to read the subtle differences between spruce, birch, and lichen, yet his keen eye still finds the forest oddly solitary. As he follows the old trail, the forest seems to watch him back, hinting that the heart of the wood holds secrets that may soon demand his attention.