The afternoon had settled over the forest in a thick, warm quiet.
Ken moved at the front of the group, reading the terrain ahead with calm and practiced eyes, picking the clearest routes between the trees without needing to think too hard about it. Marina stayed just beside him, her silver hair catching occasional breaks of light through the canopy. The rest followed in a loose formation behind them.
Noah walked near the middle of the group, his spear held loosely at his side.
He wasn't fully present in the walk.
His mind had drifted to Damien's group. Specifically to where they might be right now, how deep into the forest they had gone, whether anything had happened yet or was about to.
He knew this kind of trip was exactly the sort of setting where things went sideways in the story. One day of hunting practice in a forest outside a city. It practically announced itself.
