The days in the forest were leisurely and relaxed—was there really anything so urgent that she absolutely had to do it? Of course not. Then, had something unexpected happened to her? With this worry in mind, William Carter paced anxiously outside the cave, realizing for the first time just how deeply he depended on someone.

The male wolf, "Angus," had already gone out to hunt, while the female wolf, "Storm," lounged lazily at the cave entrance, basking in the moonlight. From time to time, she would lift her head to glance at the restless William Carter, as if puzzled by why he was still wandering outside. William Carter thought it would be nice if he could communicate with her, but seeing how unconcerned she was about Little Grace, looking so lazy and at ease, maybe nothing had really happened.

Hopefully... nothing has happened...

With such thoughts, it was late at night before he finally returned to the cave to sleep, but he still tossed and turned, unable to rest. Longing and anxiety seemed to stretch time—who said that, again? Right now, he really wished someone could just knock him out until Little Grace came back.

He didn’t even know when he finally lost consciousness, but when he woke up it was already noon. Still, there was no sign of Little Grace. Angus had probably come back and gone out again, Storm was sleeping, and he ate a piece of fruit, but it tasted like nothing.

This anxious waiting finally ended at dusk. He was standing at the cave entrance when he saw the silver-haired girl dragging some things out of the woods, flashing him a bright, innocent smile. Suddenly, he felt like one of those legendary women waiting for their husbands to return, but—oh well.

His anxious heart finally settled. He felt a wave of relief and, trying to keep his steps steady, walked up to her. Before Little Grace could do anything, he pulled her into a tight embrace!

"Ah..."

Little Grace was holding some things in her hands, so it was hard for her to hug him back, but she understood this was his way of showing affection. Nestled in his not-so-broad arms, she started to laugh. When William Carter finally let her go, she held up what she was carrying as if presenting a treasure.

"Ah, ha..."

A big, green camouflage military backpack—it looked even bigger than Little Grace's upper body. For days, William Carter had been thinking about retrieving this backpack, but just now, all he saw was Little Grace walking toward him, completely overlooking what she was carrying. Taking the backpack from her with both hands, he finally realized that all those days he’d been gazing at the cliff, Little Grace had noticed, guessed how he felt, and had gone back to the cliff to retrieve his things for him.

Thinking of this, his eyes grew moist, and only then did he notice that Little Grace was dragging something else behind her—the green tent.

The tent could have been folded up, but of course Little Grace didn’t know how. She must have struggled terribly to drag it all the way back like this. William Carter took Little Grace's hand and discovered a cut on her finger, already scabbed over.

"Ah..."

Noticing William Carter's puzzled look, Little Grace pointed a bit aggrievedly at the tent, now a tangled mess from being dragged. William Carter gently opened it, and the fierce-looking Damascus military knife inside caught the sunlight, reflecting a golden glow. The intricate patterns on the blade seemed to flow with life—it was clear Little Grace had cut herself on this knife.

He took out a band-aid from the backpack, led Little Grace to the stream to clean the wound, and then wrapped the band-aid around her finger. Although it had stopped bleeding, it was better than nothing. This was the only way William Carter could show his care.

Bathed in the sunset, Little Grace raised her bandaged finger, curiously examining the yellow band-aid, her expression innocent and pure. William Carter knew he would never forget this girl for the rest of his life. She was not like that other her. If Little Grace were to die one day, he feared he would die too.

Yes, he had fallen in love with her!

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At night, a fire was lit on the grass.

Storm and Angus were both a bit afraid of this glowing, burning thing, baring their teeth and expressing their anger at William Carter for quite a while. Little Grace had to calm them down for a long time before they finally stopped. Little Grace was also afraid, but she didn’t stop William Carter from making the fire; she just watched curiously from a distance. William Carter pulled her over, and it took a lot of effort to make her understand that as long as she didn’t touch the flames, it was safe. After a while, Grace came running from the woods with a big pile of branches, occasionally tossing one into the campfire and laughing like a silver bell as she watched the flames dance.

Not long after, Angus came back from the woods with a few small animals in his mouth, ready for dinner, but William Carter took one away. This "snatching food from a wolf’s mouth" didn’t make the two giant wolves angry; they only growled at William Carter when he pulled Little Grace away and wouldn’t let her eat. But with Little Grace's soothing, they finally calmed down.

William Carter took the carcass of the small animal that had been bitten to death, found some mud from a low, muddy spot at the edge of the grass, smeared it on, and then tossed it into the campfire. Little Grace watched his actions with curiosity, then sat to the side playing with the fire, occasionally touching her stomach in complaint. William Carter took out some leftover biscuits from his backpack. It was Little Grace's first time eating them, and she found them novel, quickly turning her complaints into delight.