The danger didn’t vanish when the forest went quiet.
It lingered.
I felt it in the way the air refused to settle, in the way the land held itself just a fraction too tight beneath my feet. Even Asher, usually calm and measured, carried a sharper awareness now — not fear, but readiness, like a woman standing watch at the edge of sleep.
They’re scattered, she said. Not gone.
I moved carefully through a stretch of mixed woodland where birch and pine grew close together, their roots knotting the ground into uneven rises. Light filtered thinly through the canopy, breaking into pale slashes that shifted as clouds drifted overhead.
“How far?” I asked quietly.
Far enough for now, Asher replied. But they’ll talk.
That truth settled heavy in my chest.
People like that didn’t let go of storie
