The day dissolved into a monotonous blur of dripping humidity and effort. The pilot, whose name Amara still hadn't dared to ask, was a whirlwind of activity. He was tireless, his movements efficient and instinctual. While Amara tended to the dwindling fire and kept an eye on Melita, he ventured further into the surrounding jungle, returning periodically with unexpected finds.
First, it was large, waxy leaves he’d identified as edible, along with some wild fruits that were surprisingly sweet and tangy. Then, a small, freshwater crab, which he expertly prepared and roasted over the fire, making a surprisingly savory, if sparse, meal. Amara, who usually dined on sashimi and imported steaks, ate ravenously, her revulsion quickly overridden by primal hunger. Melita, meanwhile, gnawed on a piec
