The forest was dim, yet the passage of day into night was perceptible. Darkness had settled, and aside from the heap of lifeless snakes, the marshland was silent.
Zaki Lee mechanically tossed pouches made from snake skin, filled with venomous glands, across the swamp. Easther followed, expression unchanged, moving with quiet precision.
She carried the gruesome trophies without a sound, her movements economical and controlled. Every step, every action, was devoid of emotion—yet it carried a subtle weight of authority, of someone utterly unafraid.
When the bundles of skinned snakes and hides were sent across, Easther and Zaki Lee moved through the branches, landing safely on the other side. The oppressive forest gave way to sparser trees and fewer beasts. Stars peeked through gaps in th
