The jungle held its breath with us.
No wind. No birdsong. Just the slow, steady thud of my heartbeat and the heavy quiet pressing in from all sides. Time didn't stop—but it leaned in close, like it was listening. Every leaf felt like it was watching. Every snapped twig waiting to become an alarm.
Camille crouched ahead of me, motionless. Her eyes locked on the clearing like it might suddenly open its jaws and bite. No wasted energy. Just coiled precision.
To my right, Alexis hovered behind a wall of ferns, rifle tucked in close, one finger resting just shy of the trigger. Her breathing stayed smooth, like she'd practiced every exhale. But her shoulders… they were tense. Not shaking. Not panicking. Just wound tight, like a spring waiting to snap.
I wasn't calm. Not really. But I wasn't unraveling either.
