The elder moved through the undergrowth with the grace of someone who had spent lifetimes walking foreign lands.
The first thing Niu noticed was silence.
The forest had gone still, eerily, unnaturally still.
Even from his place tucked inside Orimudi's pouch, pressed against the elder's chest, he could feel it. The heartbeat of the forest had stopped. The songs of insects, the wind in the leaves, everything had vanished as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Orimudi's steps slowed. The elder's pulse changed, steady but sharp. His muscles tightened. Niu peeked out through a slit in the thick cloth, his small hands gripping the edge.
Sunlight cut through the canopy in ribbons, streaking the forest gold. But one shadow on the ground moved differently. It stretched the wrong way, toward the sun instead of away from it.
"Grandpa?" Niu whispered telepathically, voice small and uncertain.
