It was late at night.
As always, Dohwi set the table with a hearty meal, watched Sohwa eat every bite, then cleared the dishes and prepared her bed in the main room.
Having laid out the silk linens and arranged everything with care, he still wasn't in a hurry to leave. His large hand moved gently through Sohwa's hair, stroking the silver strands from her temple to the curve of her jaw. It felt pleasant, so she didn't chase him away. The fox was already drifting off the moment her eyes closed.
"Good night, Sohwa."
"Mmm..."
Dohwi leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. His movements radiated tenderness—deliberate, unhurried, almost reverent.
When Sohwa's breathing grew even and calm, he extinguished the candles one by one and slipped quietly from the room.
It had been a long while since Dohwi had started attending to her sleep like this.
Sohwa had always believed he was simply repaying his debt—gratitude for having once sheltered him when he was small and helpless. That was why he helped her so diligently with everything, she told herself.
But tonight, after her conversation with the monk, everything began to seem suspicious.
_Where does he go at night?_
Several times, waking in the dead hours before dawn, Sohwa had glimpsed Dohwi returning home as if in a great hurry. It was difficult to see clearly in the darkness, but his clothes were always dirty, and sweat beaded on his forehead and the column of his throat—as though he'd been running through the mountains at full speed.
_He watches me until I fall asleep... and then he runs off?_
Although Dohwi claimed to have forgotten how to return to his beast form, this increasingly seemed like a lie. He was definitely hunting at night. After all, Dohwi had never truly liked human food.
Sohwa quietly pushed aside the warm cotton blanket, knelt on the floor, and crawled toward the door. With careful fingers, she made a small hole in the paper screen.
Peering outside, she saw Dohwi—wearing only thin underpants—walk through the gate and disappear into the night.
_Is he really going hunting?_
Sohwa nearly followed him, but quickly realized she could never keep pace with his long strides. And her weakened sense of smell would be useless in the dense forest. Mount Ikhwan, though not especially large, was still a mountain—full of shadows and hidden paths.
Glancing back at the silk bed Dohwi had so carefully prepared for her, Sohwa remembered the monk's words:
_"Dig the ground beneath the cherry tree."_
Dohwi wouldn't return until the Hour of the Ox. This was her only chance—otherwise, he was constantly hovering at her side.
Taking a decisive breath, Sohwa rushed into the courtyard. Even though it was the middle of the night, overwhelming curiosity drove her forward.
Rolling up her sleeves, she began digging beneath the cherry tree. The earth was soft, recently disturbed.
And then—to her horror—her fingers struck something hard.
A massive animal skull.
"Oh, *Gods*..."
She threw it to the ground in terror. Other bones emerged nearby, just as enormous—ribs, leg bones, fragments of spine.
Studying the shape of the horns, she began to guess.
"Roe deer?"
Not knowing how to distinguish a deer from a roe deer, Sohwa could only wonder why these remains had ended up buried in her yard.
_Is Dohwi really a tiger? Does he hunt at night and bury his kills here?_
_But why don't I sense anything?_
Even with her diminished sense of smell, she should have detected a tiger—or at the very least, the bones of herbivores. Her instincts should have screamed warnings. The scent of a predator was always the first thing prey detected.
Sohwa had lived with Dohwi for twenty years. How could she possibly have failed to notice the musk of an adult predator all this time?
Besides, she knew Dohwi's scent better than anyone—that fresh, green fragrance reminiscent of pine bark and mountain moss. He'd carried that scent since childhood.
_No. Dohwi is not a tiger._
He carried water for her. He cooked her meals. He massaged her aching shoulders, washed her tired feet, laundered her clothes, and kept the house immaculate. Could a tiger truly be so kind? So attentive? So *caring*?
_Or is he simply fattening me up... so he can devour me later?_
His constant offers of food. His watchful, solicitous attention. All of it suddenly took on a darker cast.
---
While lost in these spiraling thoughts, Sohwa suddenly heard a sound from deep within the forest.
*Kya!*
Her ears—sharp even in human form—pricked up instantly. A desperate, high-pitched squeal pierced the quiet night.
_A fox. That's definitely a fox!_
There could only be one explanation: another fox in the forest. Judging by the pitch, it was a male.
Half of her mind thrilled at the encounter. The other half recoiled in surprise.
*Kya! Kya!*
A short, pain-filled scream tore through the darkness again.
Then—silence.
Ikhwan sank back into its usual stillness, heavy and absolute.
The fox was dead.
Sohwa shuddered, her hands trembling violently. This peaceful valley, where deer once frolicked among the trees—it was too quiet now. *Far* too quiet.
What kind of monster could have killed that fox so swiftly?
Only when Sohwa noticed the fog drifting across the face of the moon did she snap back to herself.
_I must bury the bones before he returns._
Hurrying, Sohwa worked to cover her tracks, pushing dirt back over the grave she'd disturbed. But suddenly, she heard it—a faint growl in the distance.
Though barely audible, her sensitive ears caught every note.
Something large. Moving fast. Its quick, heavy steps were approaching, and the wind seemed to whistle in its wake.
Ignoring the dirt caking the silk shoes Dohwi had given her, Sohwa sprinted toward the house. She barely managed to slide the door shut behind her before collapsing against it.
The beast crossed the courtyard.
Sohwa's heart pounded so violently she was certain it could be heard through the thin walls.
_He's already here._
With trembling hands, she pressed her eye to the small hole in the paper screen.
A wet Dohwi stood in the courtyard, holding something in his hands—something that hung limply, like dead prey.
_Did he go swimming alone at night?_
Even his dark hair was damp, plastered to his skull. His thin white pants clung to his body, the soaked fabric emphasizing every hard curve of muscle beneath.
Dohwi shook his head sharply, throwing his hair back and scattering droplets of water. Every muscle in his back and shoulders seemed alive—twitching beneath his skin with barely contained, feral power.
_When did this child grow so much?_
A thought flickered through the fox's mind: his face remained nearly the same as when she'd first found him. Snow-white skin, delicate features—so fine they could almost be mistaken for a girl's. Only his eyebrows had changed, grown thicker and more severe, lending his beauty a dangerous edge.
Dohwi had nearly disappeared through the door of the guest room when he suddenly stopped.
Right beneath the cherry tree.
Sohwa froze, holding her breath until her lungs burned.
_Did he realize it was me? Does he know I dug there?_
He stood motionless beneath the branches—already bare of late summer fruit—then slowly turned his head, as if searching for something. His gaze seemed to pierce the earth itself, boring into the exact spot where the roe deer bones lay buried.
Then, without warning, he whirled around.
Sohwa was so terrified that she scrambled backward from the door on all fours and dove beneath her blanket, pulling it over her head.
The sound of his footsteps approached the house.
"Sohwa? Are you sleeping?"
She didn't answer. Couldn't answer.
Dohwi quietly set down whatever he'd been carrying. Then, sliding the door open just enough to slip through, he entered her room.
Sohwa lay on her side, pretending to be asleep. But something wet was trailing down her face—whether sweat or tears, she couldn't tell.
_Don't open your eyes. Don't open your eyes._
She promised herself she wouldn't stir, wouldn't react. But when his cool fingers brushed gently against her cheek, her entire body betrayed her with a violent shudder.
"Darling..."
The word sent ice cascading down her spine.
His temperature was much lower than hers—had always been lower, she realized now. Although they were just soft human fingers tracing her skin, in Sohwa's mind they transformed into enormous paws tipped with black, curved claws.
"I hope you don't have any nightmares tonight," he added, his voice gentle but strangely anxious. He stroked her hair once more, smoothing the tangled strands from her face.
These tender words sent a fresh wave of gooseflesh rippling across her skin.
*Kya!*
The fox's dying shriek echoed in her ears again—that desperate, cut-off scream reverberating through her skull. Trembling with terror, Sohwa could almost *feel* the tiger's massive paws hovering just above her.
When Dohwi finally rose and slipped quietly from the room, she was able to exhale.
But something fundamental had shifted.
Where she had once felt safe, fear now reigned supreme.
---
Sohwa didn't witness Dohwi transform into a tiger that night.
But strange things kept happening. The deer bones. His soaking-wet body in the dead of night. And finally—that fox's terrifying death cry, silenced so abruptly.
It was as though the mountain itself had sent her a warning of the fate that awaited.
Unable to sleep, Sohwa peeked out from her room once more.
Dohwi was standing beneath the cherry tree again, burying something. He made no attempt to hide his actions—simply dropped the object into a shallow hole and casually pushed dirt over it with his bare hands.
When he finished, he straightened up and brushed the soil from his palms. The sharp sound of his large hands clapping together cut through the predawn silence like a thunderclap.
Sohwa retreated to her gilded bed, sinking beneath the blanket as her mind churned.
_Roe deer bones again?_
But the sound hadn't been right. And the shape—vague in the darkness—hadn't resembled bones at all.
It had looked more like the remains of half-eaten meat.
_Don't think about it._
*Curiosity is the death of foxes*, she reminded herself over and over, squeezing her eyes shut and willing sleep to come.
But as she tossed and turned, trying desperately to quiet her racing thoughts, she suddenly became aware of something else entirely.
Everything between her legs was wet.
---