The sun rose quickly, its golden light spilling across the sandy shore and the forest behind the shelter. Morning dew still clung to the palm fronds, glistening under the new sunlight. No one had time for extra rest; breakfast was nothing more than a few pieces of dried meat hastily divided and swallowed down with cold spring water. The heavy tension from the previous night still lingered, but Ethan allowed no room for delay.
He stood in the middle of the shelter, holding a large rock in one hand, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep: “Today, we start preparing the pitfall trap. No machetes, hoes, or shovels, we use what we have: rocks, wooden stakes, vines. Anyone unfamiliar with the work, learn fast. On this deserted island, building traps doesn’t allow mistakes.”
Ethan stood at the cen
