A figure moved closer, and she held still, hoping the foliage would keep her hidden. The figure came into view—it was the traveller from the diary. He looked rugged and frustrated, flanked by others with nets and tools.
His gaze locked onto her, and his mocking voice cut through the silence. Hazel gripped her knife, feeling both its cold weight and her own fear. The forest, once serene, now felt menacing to Hazel. Each rustle and snap seemed to whisper of hidden dangers.