The tall grass whispered as it swayed in the afternoon breeze, the fields stretching endlessly ahead. The land was quiet save for the rhythmic crunch of boots on dirt and the occasional exasperated sigh from Elara.

“Do we have to do this today?” she asked, trailing behind her dad with the begrudging shuffle of a teenager who had far better things to do. “I mean, couldn’t you have done this without me?”

Callum didn’t break stride. His weathered coat flapped behind him as he moved, his eyes scanning the horizon with practiced ease. “I could’ve,” he said. “But you’re old enough to catch your own now. It’s time.”

Elara groaned. “Why do we even have to do this anymore? We’ve got clothes. We’ve got food. Why can’t we just—”

“Because it’s tradition,” Callum interrupted. “And because it’s necessary. Unless you want to go barefoot for the rest of your life?”

She huffed. “Maybe I do. Barefoot sounds more comfortable than—”

Callum suddenly raised a hand, signaling her to stop. He dropped into a crouch, motioning for her to do the same.

Elara knelt beside him, her heart picking up its pace despite herself. There was something thrilling about the way her dad moved in these moments—like a predator on the prowl, like a man who’d done this a hundred times and never failed. She peeked over the crest of the hill they were hiding behind.

Below them, near a cluster of rocks, something moved.

At first, Elara couldn’t make out exactly what she was seeing. But then—there. A sleek pair of black high-tops prowled across the rocky terrain, their glossy rubber toes glinting in the sunlight. The white laces swished behind them like delicate tails, trailing in the dirt as they sniffed out a patch of moss. They moved with surprising grace, the soft scuff, scuff of their soles blending into the landscape.

Elara’s jaw dropped. “No way. Those are perfect.”

“Of course they are,” Callum whispered, a proud grin spreading across his face. “Look at them. Wild, but strong. A little worn around the edges, but nothing that can’t be polished up.”

The high-tops twitched, one of them perking up as if it sensed the pair watching. The other nudged its partner, urging them to keep moving.

“They’re about to bolt,” Callum warned, shifting his weight. “We’ve gotta move now if we want to catch them.”

Elara’s pulse quickened. “What’s the plan?”

“I’ll flank left, get them to run toward you,” Callum said. “You stand your ground and—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Elara interrupted, wide-eyed. “You want me to tackle them?”

Callum gave her a deadpan look. “They’re shoes, not wolves.”

“They’ve got laces!” she hissed. “They could trip me!”

Callum chuckled under his breath. “You want them or not?”

Elara bit her lip. “Fine.”

Callum nodded and slipped to the left, moving with quiet precision through the grass. Elara, meanwhile, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and planted her feet firmly in the dirt. The sneakers below twitched again, clearly suspicious now. One of them let out a soft squeak as it scraped a rock.

Then, Callum lunged from his hiding spot with a yell, waving his arms. The high-tops bolted.

They came right at Elara.

Her heart slammed in her chest. The sneakers were faster than she’d expected, darting left and right, trying to shake her off their path. But she held steady. As they drew closer, she leapt forward, arms wide.

She crashed to the ground, her hands wrapping around the slick rubber soles. The sneakers bucked and twisted in her grasp, laces writhing like snakes, but she held on tight.

“Gotcha!” she shouted triumphantly.

Callum jogged over, laughing. “Not bad for your first time. I’ve seen grown men lose their nerve and let go.”

Elara grinned, panting as she slipped her feet into the shoes. They tightened automatically, the laces coiling snugly around her ankles. The moment they settled, she felt a thrill run through her—like the shoes had chosen her just as much as she’d caught them.

“They’re perfect,” she said, standing up and admiring the way the high-tops gleamed in the sun.

“They suit you,” Callum agreed. “Tough, a little stubborn, and quick to run when they don’t want to be caught.”

Elara rolled her eyes. “Funny.”

“Next time, you’ll hunt your own without me,” he said as they started walking back. “It’s a rite of passage, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. But she couldn’t help smiling as the shoes squeaked softly beneath her steps, already feeling like an extension of herself.

Maybe the hunt wasn’t so dumb after all.