The previously leisurely atmosphere, filled with laughter and chatter, instantly froze. The smell of something pungent and foul drifted past with the forest breeze. The combat instincts of Asher Ryder and Wyatt immediately flared up. Both of them lowered their center of gravity in unison, their muscles pulling taut like a bowstring about to snap, their sharp gazes locked onto the dark space behind the fern clump.
"Shh..." Asher Ryder raised a hand to block in front of Ewan and Simon, his voice dropping to a hiss through his teeth: "Step back, gently... There is something very big coming this way."
The sound of dry branches snapping under a crushing weight grew clearer by the second, accompanied by heavy, ragged panting like a blacksmith's bellows. The air in the forest seemed to be drained of oxygen, becoming suffocatingly oppressive. From the pitch-black shadows of the giant ferns, a pair of bloodshot eyes as large as enamel bowls slowly emerged.
