#Chapter 172 – Close Call

Lila The forest felt wrong before I knew why but it wasn’t the usual wrong of hunger and nerves; this was a hush that swallowed birdsong mid-note. Even the insects seemed to dim themselves as dusk pooled between the trunks. My steps shortened on instinct. I left the trail and slid into the brush, easing between underbrush until the mud slicked my boots and the smell of rot climbed into my throat. A torn leather strap hung from a bramble ahead, frayed and stained dark. Farther on, a scatter of pale crumbs and a boot print pressed deep, heel twisted like someone had stumbled. I crouched, fingertips hovering over the print without touching it. It was fresh. The edges still held their shape. The overwhelming feeling of danger and the need to turn back almost had me running. But I didn’t. Instead, I folded left, skirting the trail until a fallen pine sprawled across a dip in the earth creating a small shelter. The trunk was rotting in strips, bark flaking off in da