Earlier...
Dayanara moved through the forest, her eyes scanning every shadow, every flicker of movement between the twisted trees.
She reached behind her back, pulling out two sticks one in each hand.
Her breathing was steady, but her ears were sharp, tracking every rustle and distant snap of a branch. She had been in enough dangerous zones to know that the deadliest things were not always the loudest.
Then she froze.
Somewhere ahead, faint but clear, came the sound of a child crying. A small, hiccuping sob. Dayanara's brows furrowed. "...What the hell?" she muttered under her breath.
She followed the sound, weaving between the gnarled trunks until she came upon a strange sight. a little boy, no older than five, sitting on the damp ground beneath a crooked tree. His knees were pulled to his chest, his face buried in his arms.
"Kiddo," Dayanara called softly, keeping her tone gentle, "are you alone?"
