Narrator

We put distance behind the calls, but they followed loosely, like something pacing us.

A whoop here, a knock there, not constant, just enough to keep us aware that we weren't alone.

By late afternoon, the weather shifted.

The light dimmed under a veil of high clouds.

The air got heavier.

We decided to make camp before rain hit."

Tessa led us to a small bench above a creek.

The creek was narrow but steady, flowing over stone with a constant hush.

The sight wasn't obvious from the trail.

Exactly the kind of place that feels safe because you're hidden.

While Luke and I set up the tent, Tessa went to filter water.

I watched her crouch by the creek, hands moving quick, practiced.

She looked relaxed for the first time all day, like water made her feel anchored.

Luke was humming while he staked out the tent, and that's when the first rock hit.

It wasn't a landslide.

It wasn't random.

It was a single stone that came out of the trees across the creek and smacked into a trunk near us with a hard thunk.

The sound snapped through the clearing.

Luke straightened.

What was that?