Chapter Text
The forest was quiet except for the crackling of the campfire and the occasional rustle of leaves in the evening breeze. Phainon sat on a fallen log, watching as Atlas, his German Shepherd, dozed contentedly by his feet. The dog's ears twitched occasionally, monitoring the sounds of the woods even in sleep.
This was exactly what Phainon needed. Three days away from the training facility, no clients, no schedules, just him and Atlas and the trail. He'd hiked eight miles that day, set up camp near a small stream, and was now contemplating whether to heat up the freeze-dried pasta or just eat the protein bars he'd packed.
Atlas's head suddenly lifted, ears pricked forward. A low, alert sound rumbled in his chest.
"What is it, boy?" Phainon murmured, his hand moving to Atlas's collar.
Then he heard it: quite footsteps moving through the underbrush. Someone who knew how to walk in the woods without making unnecessary noise. Phainon tensed, reaching for the flashlight beside him.
A figure emerged from the tree line. A man, tanned and lean, with hair tied back loosely. He wore hunting gear, a compound bow slung across his back, and carried what looked like a dressed rabbit in one hand. His eyes swept over the campsite with the assessing gaze of someone who'd spent considerable time in the wilderness.
"Didn't expect to find anyone out here," he said. "This trail doesn't get much traffic."
Phainon relaxed slightly, though Atlas remained alert. "Could say the same. I thought I had this section to myself."
The man's gaze dropped to Atlas, and something changed in his expression—respect, maybe, or recognition. "That's a well-trained dog. Shepherd?"
"German Shepherd. Atlas." Phainon studied him. "You hunt out here often?"
"Often enough." He gestured to the rabbit. "Dinner. There's a clearing about half a mile east where I usually camp, but I saw your fire and wanted to make sure you weren't some lost tourist." His lips quirked slightly. "You don't look lost."
"Dog trainer," Phainon said. "Phainon Torres. And no, not lost. Just needed to get away from civilization for a few days."
"Mydei Vasilakis," he replied, stepping closer to the fire's warmth. "Hunter, tracker, occasional wilderness guide. Mind if I sit? I can share the rabbit if you're willing to share the fire."
Phainon gestured to the log across from him. "Deal. I was about to eat freeze-dried pasta, so fresh game sounds a lot better."
Mydei settled onto the log with the easy grace of someone comfortable in his own skin. He pulled out a knife and began preparing the rabbit with practiced efficiency. Atlas watched him with interest but didn't move from Phainon's side.
"He's protective," Mydei observed.
"He's cautious," Phainon corrected. "There's a difference. Atlas, easy."
The dog's posture relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained on Mydei.
"You train him yourself?" he asked, not looking up from his work.
"From a puppy. He was the runt of the litter, anxious, wouldn't socialize with the other dogs. Everyone said he'd never make a good working dog." Phainon smiled, scratching Atlas behind the ears. "Turns out he just needed someone patient enough to understand him."
Mydei glanced up, something like approval in his eyes. "Patience is underrated. Most people want instant results." He skewered the rabbit on a makeshift spit and positioned it over the fire. "In hunting and in tracking, you can't rush it. The forest has its own rhythm."
"Same with dogs," Phainon said. "You have to work with their nature, not against it."
They fell into comfortable silence as the rabbit cooked, the smell of roasting meat filling the air. Phainon found himself studying Mydei—the way he moved with confidence, the calluses on his hands, the alertness in his gaze that never quite dimmed. He reminded him of the working dogs he trained: focused, capable, and utterly at ease in his element.
"So what brings a dog trainer into the deep woods alone?" Mydei asked eventually, turning the spit.
Phainon leaned back, looking up at the stars visible through the canopy. "Needed to clear my head. I spend all day teaching other people how to communicate with their dogs, how to build trust, how to be present. But sometimes I forget to do that for myself." He paused. "Out here, it's simpler. Just me, Atlas, and the trail."
Mydei nodded slowly. "I get that. People are complicated. The forest isn't. It's honest, dangerous sometimes, but honest. You know where you stand."
"Exactly." Phainon met his gaze. "What about you? What brings a hunter out here alone?"
"Same reason, probably. I guide hunting trips sometimes, teach tracking workshops. But most of the time, I'm dealing with people who don't respect the wilderness, who want to conquer it instead of understanding it." He checked the rabbit, then continued, "Out here alone, I remember why I love this. The silence, the challenge, the connection to something older than cities and schedules."
"Sounds like we're both running from the same thing," Phainon said.
"Or running toward something," Mydei countered. "Depends on how you look at it."
The rabbit was ready, and Mydei divided it with his knife, handing Phainon a portion on a flat piece of bark he'd cleaned. He accepted it gratefully, and they ate in companionable silence, the fire crackling between them.
"This is good," Phainon said. "Better than anything I could've made."
"Fresh game usually is." Mydei wiped his knife clean. "You planning to stay out here long?"
"Two more days. You?"
"Same. I've got a tracking job next week. Search and rescue training for a local fire department." He glanced at Atlas. "They could probably use a dog like him."
"He's certified for search and rescue," Phainon said. "We did the training last year. Haven't had a call yet, but we're ready."
Mydei's eyebrows rose. "Impressive. Most people don't put in that kind of work."
"Most people don't understand what dogs are capable of," Phainon replied. "Atlas can track a scent trail three days old, find a person buried under rubble, alert to medical emergencies. He's not just a pet—he's a partner."
"Like a good hunting dog," Mydei said thoughtfully. "Or a good hunting partner." He looked at him directly. "You ever track anything besides lost people?"
"Depends. What are you asking?"
"I'm asking if you'd be interested in a different kind of tracking tomorrow. There's a black bear that's been moving through this area, not dangerous, just curious. I've been following its trail for two days. Thought it might be interesting to see how Atlas does with wildlife tracking."
Phainon considered. "He's trained for human scent primarily, but he's got the instincts. Could be good practice for both of us."
"Meet me at dawn, then. The clearing I mentioned, half a mile east. Bring your dog and your patience." Mydei stood, shouldering his bow. "And Phainon?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for the fire. And the conversation. It's been a while since I met someone who understands."
"Same here," Phainon said, watching as he melted back into the forest with barely a sound.
Atlas whined softly, looking up at him.
"Yeah, boy," Phainon murmured, scratching the dog's ears. "I think we just made a friend."
---
Dawn came cold and clear, mist rising from the forest floor. Phainon and Atlas found Mydei's camp easily. He'd left a subtle trail marker, a small cairn of stones that most people would miss. He was already up, his gear packed efficiently, a thermos of coffee in hand.
"You came," he said, offering him a cup.
"Said I would." Phainon accepted the coffee gratefully. "Atlas is ready. So am I."
Mydei knelt down, letting Atlas sniff his hand. The dog's tail wagged slowly in acceptance. "Good boy," he said softly, then looked up at Phainon. "The bear's trail starts about a quarter mile north. Fresh tracks from last night. You ready to see what your partner can do?"
"Lead the way."
They moved through the forest together, Mydei reading the signs like broken branches, disturbed earth, claw marks on trees, while Atlas worked the scent, his nose to the ground. Phainon watched them both, impressed by how naturally they worked in tandem, each bringing their own expertise.
"There," Mydei whispered, pointing to a massive paw print in the soft earth near the stream. "Big male, probably four hundred pounds. He's been fishing."
Atlas circled the print, then looked up at Phainon, waiting for direction.
"Track," Phainon commanded softly.
The dog's entire body shifted into focus, and he moved forward with purpose, following the scent trail deeper into the woods. Mydei and Phainon followed, moving silently, communicating with hand signals and shared glances.
An hour later, they spotted the bear. A magnificent black bear, exactly as Mydei had described, foraging for berries in a sun-dappled clearing. Atlas froze, his training overriding his instincts, waiting for Phainon's command.
"Good boy," Phainon breathed. "Stay."
They watched the bear for several minutes, keeping downwind, respecting the distance. Then Mydei touched Phainon's arm and gestured back the way they'd come. They retreated silently, leaving the bear undisturbed.
When they were far enough away, Mydei turned to him, his eyes bright. "That was incredible. The way he tracked, the discipline when he spotted the bear—that's years of training."
"He's the best partner I've ever had," Phainon said, pride evident in his voice.
"I can see why." Mydei paused, then added, "You know, I could use someone like you. And Atlas. For the search and rescue training next week. The pay's decent, and it might be good for both of you."
Phainon considered. "What's the job exactly?"
"Teaching firefighters how to work with search dogs in wilderness scenarios. I handle the tracking and navigation, but I don't have your expertise with canine behavior." He met his gaze. "We'd make a good team."
"We would," Phainon agreed. "Alright. I'm in."
Mydei smiled. "Good. Give me your number, and I'll send you the details."
They exchanged information, and as they walked back toward their respective camps, Phainon found himself hoping this wouldn't be the last time they worked together. There was something about Mydei that resonated with him.
"Phainon?" Mydei called as they reached the fork in the trail.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe after the job next week, we could do this again. Track something together. Just for the challenge."
"I'd like that," Phainon said. "Atlas would too."
Mydei nodded, then disappeared into the forest, leaving Phainon and Atlas standing in the dappled sunlight, both of them somehow less alone than they'd been the day before.