“Same animal,” he said quietly. “It’s passing through regularly.” Lisa swallowed hard. He gestured for her to stay close. “Let’s keep moving. Stay alert.” As they ventured deeper, the air grew cooler. The hum of town life faded, replaced by the rustle of branches and the occasional caw of a bird overhead.
Every sound felt magnified, like the forest itself was listening. Watching. Lisa flinched at a squirrel darting through dead leaves. Her boots crunched too loudly. Every twig snap underfoot felt like it might draw something out of the trees.