When the group returned to the shelter, the sun had already begun its descent toward the western horizon. Though the resource-gathering trip had been relatively successful, with fresh bundles of Cymbopogon citratus and Mentha arvensis in hand, the atmosphere lacked the usual sense of relief. The appearance of a shadowy figure deep within the forest had sliced through the fragile peace they had fought to maintain over the past two weeks like an invisible blade.
Stella was the first to step out when they arrived, tall and poised as always, her expression calm though her eyes revealed a sharpened wariness: “What’s going on? You all look… tense. Did something happen?”
Mary rushed out from inside, still holding a basket of freshly peeled bamboo shoots: “What’s the matter? Weren’t you just out
