Jay had settled in for an uncomfortable evening. The rain had finally begun to fall, turning the loose dirt of the jungle floor to a thick coat of mud. The only dry spaces were the areas covered by a thick canopy of branches or the tents propped against the gnarled trunks of trees – which had been thoroughly searched by the Rangers beforehand, with claims that the roots could actually be a chameleon-like creature known for ensnaring uanware prey while they slept. Armed with such knowledge, Jay felt less inclined than ever to go to sleep. But after the chaotic events of the day she found herself needing sleep more than usual.

Under normal circumstances, she would have preferred one of the tents set up on flatter ground. But it seemed Mandalorians were territorial with their sleeping arrangements, and most of the Berserkers seemed more than happy to attack an aruetii for rights to prime sleeping space. Jay knew she would lose such a fight, so she simply opted for one of the uncomfortable tents.

She had turned in for the night some time ago, tired of being scrutinized under Norac Benz' condescending gaze. She soon found the tent wasn't much of a reprieve. Her shelter was tight and uncomfortable, with gnarled tree roots pressing awkwardly into her back and the flimsy tent walls bucking wildly in the cool night breeze. There were worse conditions to try and sleep in, but not many. Yet as uncomfortable as they were the tents were admittedly warm and offered good protection from the drizzling rain.

But the tent wasn't the only problem. The jungle was loud. Even in the midst of the gentle thunderstorm, the forest around her was buzzing with life. There were hooting monkeys and chirping birds and buzzing insects, all apparently fighting to see who could sound the most disruptive. Every time she almost managed to nod off, some accursed creature would howl in the branches right over her head, jarring her from slumber. Sometimes she would hear the chilling howl of a kalo wolf in the distance or the searing screech of an echo snake finding its prey and find shivers running down her spine at the thought of such beasts prowling through the undergrowth outside camp. Then a clap of thunder would drown out the sound and the jungle would go silent for a few blessed moments, as if taking in a hushed and surprised breath. Moments later the cacophony would return, even stronger than before.

All in all, it was not the best atmosphere to get a well-deserved and well-needed good night's sleep.

Jay was beginning to understand what Vhonte Tervho had meant when the captain had asked why she and Vhetin had decided to tag along. This was truly unlike any mission she'd been on before. Just the thought of it made her nervous if she allowed her mind to stay on the subject; they were all but stranded for the night in this hostile jungle, a whole day's walk from the nearest center of civilization, probably surrounded by more echo snakes and kalo wolves and Force-knew what else. And somewhere out there were the mysterious Kar'ta Epar'e, very probably watching them even now.

Calm down, she told herself, taking a deep breath as she listened to thunder crack outside her thin-walled tent. If they're really as skilled as Tamai says, we'd be dead already. If they are here, they're just watching.

The thought didn't comfort her. Nor did the murmur of conversation from the camp outside; apparently, there were many others who found sleep as elusive as she did. And if an expedition of battle-hardened Mandalorians was nervous, she sure as haran had every right to be. Still, she was determined to simply roll over and try to hone out the noise. At least, she was until she heard a very familiar voice outside her tent.

"Is everything ready?" It was Vhetin's voice, low and quiet as always.

"As ready as we could make it." Tamai's voice now. "Mandalorian steelbark is tough to chop down. But the Berserkers are thankfully lending more than just a hand. The pyre is almost finished."

"If you need my lightsaber, you only have to ask."

"I know. But the Rangers have it under control."

Jay sat up, listening intently. The two had stopped somewhere outside, no doubt seeking shelter from the storm under the branches of the tree where her tent was set up. She could hear shuffling feet not far from the front of her resting place.

"It's…" Tamai's voice, muffled through the wall of the tent, paused for a few moments. "It's odd, being back here. Part of me thought I would never regroup with the Rangers."

"Spending a week stranded in the jungle will do that to a person. I'm glad you managed to find your way back."

A laugh from Tamai. "Even considering I attacked you as soon as I saw you?"

"I've had worse greetings. You've obviously never worked for a Hutt."

"Obviously not. We thankfully don't have many crime lords on the frontier. I guess hunting down kalo wolves and echo snakes must be routine stuff for a big-shot beroya like you."

A snort from Vhetin. "You wish."

Jay sat up and rested her arms on her knees, listening intently despite the nagging voice of her conscience telling her not to eavesdrop. She felt her sense of curiosity perking up its annoying head, and couldn't help but listen intently as the two continued their conversation outside.

Ranger Vasser was a fascinating figure; a woman who had obviously known Vhetin for years, perhaps since his mysterious arrival on Mandalore. And if Jay's suspicions were correct, the two had been very close once upon a time; an interesting fact in itself. Not many could make similar claims, and anyone who knew anything about her partner was worthy of closer scrutiny. She still didn't know as much about the black-armored Mandalorian as she would like.

The sound of scuffling feet; someone kicking at the mud. "It's… ahem, it's good to see you again, Tamai."

A laugh from the woman. "I thought I was going to have to shoot you when I first laid eyes on you again. But it's good to see you too. It's been too long."

"What's it been, three years? Four?"

"A lot has changed, hasn't it? You're all gussied up in black and gray, and I'm a damn-near respectable Ranger."

Vhetin chuckled. "Who would have imagined, huh? So how is Gracya?"

"What, you're keeping an eye on my girlfriends now? How do you know about Gracya?"

A short, embarrassed pause from Vhetin. "I-I like to keep tabs on my friends. I don't know if you're aware, but I don't have many."

"Some things don't change much, I guess," Tamai said, a note of humor in her voice. It faded away with her next words. "Gracya and I… we're not together anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"Found her in bed with a pretty aruetii Twi'lek while I was still stationed at the equatorial farms. One of the reasons I transferred here. Having to stay on duty with a cheating bitch like her… well, it wasn't good for my health. Or hers, for that matter."

"So you hopped on board the first transport to the Werda Kurs? You seem to share my complete lack of self-preservation instinct, vod'ika."

"Well, you're a Bralor and I'm a Ranger. It comes with the territory."

"So you know that Janada adopted me, then?"

A hesitation from Tamai now. "I… like to keep tabs on my friends as well."

There was a long pause, long enough for Jay to think the two had moved out of earshot. But then Tamai cleared her throat and said, "Anyway, I'm just glad Hyperion decided to transfer with me. It would have been awfully lonely down here if I had to walk into this blind. It was nice having a familiar face on patrol."

"And you and Lee… you aren't…"

"No. Not that he isn't nice, but… he's just not my type, you know?"

"Right. You only prefer guys and girls who are apparently into Twi'leks. Or turn out to be kidnappers."

Sounds of a scuffle now; Tamai must have given Vhetin a playful shove. "That only happened once. Besides, you're hardly one to talk. You shacked up with literally the first woman you saw, even though she twisted your arm and handcuffed you on your first meeting."

"You're taking that out of context."

"I know I am. More fun that way. How is the high-born bitch, anyway?"

Vhetin's voice took on a tense note. "She's, uh… she's good. I guess."

"You guess? What, you two have gotten tired of making heart-eyes at each other? Or did Brianna's cooking not live up to your expectations?"

"Brianna… moved on. She left me. A few months ago now."

Dead silence. Then Tamai's stunned, disbelieving voice. "She what? She left you?"

Vhetin sighed. "It's a long story. One I don't feel like retelling now. But now she's hooked up with some hotshot merc and expects me to just get over it."

Jay could hear the pain in her partner's voice. He pretended like he'd moved on after Brianna had left him, but it was obvious it still hurt. She could understand; relationships that lasted more than five years usually didn't just end overnight. When they did, the results were… traumatic.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tamai murmured. "I hated that woman. But you deserved better than that."

"It was more my fault than hers, I think," Vhetin replied. "Like I said, I don't want to talk about it."

"Recieved and understood," was Tamai's response.

Jay finally decided she had spent enough time eavesdropping – and enough time trying vainly to fall asleep. She unzipped her tent and stepped outside into the cold jungle night, slipping her jacket over her shoulders as she did.

It wasn't surprising to find that the camp was bustling with activity, even this late into the night. The Berserkers hadn't been too keen to stop their trek in the first place, but they had needed time to care for the dead and wounded. In the hours since the echo snake attack, they had set up a small makeshift camp on the banks of the river.

The air was cold enough that Jay could see her breath come out in a foggy cloud, and she very purposefully avoided the patches of ground that weren't sheltered by the canopy; the rain was slow and cold and she knew from experience that in this weather it could soak down into the bones and chill to the core. Who knew that it could get so cold at the equator?

Their expedition now numbered less than twenty, and it looked like nearly everyone was awake. There was a patrol of guards with handheld illuminators prowling up and down the river bank, wary for another echo snake attack. Small fires dotted the bank here and there, with small clusters of Mandalorians gathered close to the flames to chase away the chill of the falling rain. A rough barricade of interwoven ferns and tree branches made up the "command post" where the Che'daje sisters were attempting to establish holonet communication with Outpost Aurek to report the expedition's status and progress. So far, it didn't look like they were having much luck.

Vhetin and Tamai were standing a few feet away from her, looking silently out over the makeshift camp. The black-armored Mandalorian hadn't changed out of his dirty and mud-slicked combat gear. Tamai, on the other hand, had undergone a surprising transformation. She had bathed since rejoining the group, washing the dirt and twigs from her hair, and had cleaned her armor to a healthy luster that Jay hadn't thought possible under its earlier thick coat of mud.

Now Jay could see that Tamai was a surprisingly beautiful young woman with long blond hair, a strong jaw, and piercing green eyes. She had a faint scar stretching horizontally across her forehead, and another that arced down one cheekbone. She could see another scar, sharp, rough, and livid white, stretching across the back of one calloused hand.

Her armor was painted a deep blue with grey trim and yellow plates highlighting the more somber tones of her gear. A thick cloth poncho was wrapped around her shoulders and her helmet – which was clipped to her belt at the moment – sported three gold thunderbolt insignias across the forehead dome.

This was a very different woman from the wild and vengeful warrior that had charged down from the trees to attack a full-grown echo snake. Jay found herself a little jealous at just how quickly Tamai had rebounded from her savage look, especially considering she had just returned from a week of living in the jungle.

I guess when you've worked in this profession as long as Tamai, she thought, you learn to clean up pretty quickly.

Vhetin finally turned at the sound of her approach and nodded in greeting. "Can't sleep?"

"Seems to be a trend," Jay noted, observing the many other expedition members who were bustling around their makeshift camp. The Che'daje sisters had apparently given up trying to establish outside contact and were now pouring over a set of holographic maps. Vhonte Tervho was sitting around a fire with a knot of Berserker troops, a mug of dark-colored ale in one hand while she slapped her thigh plate and laughed at some no-doubt filthy joke. Surprisingly, Norac Benz seemed to be one of the few who had managed to sleep; he was propped up in the branches of a tree, his legs up on a V-shaped branch with his supply pack tucked behind his head as a makeshift pillow.

Jay rubbed her eyes. "So what's all the commotion about? Are we moving out soon?"

"Not until dawn," Vhetin said, folding his arms as he watched a cluster of Rangers haul a fallen tree across camp. "But folks are busy regardless."

"Special occasion?"

"They're setting up a funeral service for the fallen," Tamai said, her voice quiet and somber.

"Oh," Jay responded in a similar tone. "But… don't Mandalorians bury their dead without ceremony? I thought you don't treat funerary rites the same as aruetiise."

"Normally you'd be right," Tamai agreed. "But in the jungle the rules change. We can't bury bodies deep enough to keep them from kalo wolves or mover roots. And being torn apart by jungle beasts is no honorable rest for a fallen warrior. So we cremate the dead instead."

"I see. And what about you, Cin? You can't sleep either?"

Her partner rubbed at the palm of his hand, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I… don't sleep well anymore. Given up trying."

"More of your nightmares?"

Tamai's brow quirked up at that. "Nightmares?"

"It's… it's nothing," Vhetin said, turning away. "Just bad dreams."

"Hey," Tamai said, stepping in front of him. She put her hand on his armored chest plates. "She's not talking about those same nightmares you used to get when we were younger, right? The bad ones where light would come pouring out of your eyes and your nose would start bleeding?"

The black-armored Mandalorian tensed. "It's really nothing I can't handle."

"Cin, I still remember you telling me how dangerous those nightmares were. How they could kill you."

"They haven't killed me yet," he growled. "I'm fine."

"But—"

He brushed past Tamai, saying, "I'll catch up with you two later. I'm going to help arrange the funeral pyre."

Tamai watched him go with her hands on her hips. She eventually shook her head and said, "I've known that man for going on a decade now. And sometimes I still feel like I just met him yesterday."

Jay smiled, watching Vhetin stalk across the camp. "I can understand that feeling. Just how long did it take for him to come clean about his past with you?"

"It was a while," she admitted. "He was always shy with me. Took him a while to even work up the courage to talk to me after we first met. He was always a shy kid. But... well, we were always drawn to each other. It was inevitable that he would reveal his past to me eventually."

Tamai finally turned away and fixed Jay with a slightly skeptical eyebrow. "So. You're his partner, huh?"

"I am. Have been for some time now."

"And you two have fought back-to-back all this time?"

"Of course. We don't usually take separate contracts."

"And you two aren't... you know... close?"

Jay frowned. "What?"

"Have you... gotten to know him? Well?"

"You mean-"

"Is he putting his carbonite in your cargo hold?" Tamai said bluntly. "Firing torpedoes down your exhaust port?"

Jay didn't know whether to feel insulted or amused by the woman's obvious discomfort. But the embarrassed look in the woman's eyes and the way her cheeks burned suggested Tamai meant nothing by it. So she just shook her head and said, "No. Never. I have a boyfriend back in Keldabe."

"Right. Okay." Tamai let out a long breath, blushing furiously. "I just... just thought... well, an attractive woman like you..."

Jay cocked her head. "You care about him."

Tamai nodded sheepishly. It was a surprising change from the angry, no-nonsense warrior who had punched her in the nose only hours before – a punch Jay could still feel, too. But Jay had long ago learned not to judge Mandos at face value, and had seen much more surprising transformations than this.

She cocked her head. "I take it you two were close? Before you went your separate ways?"

"He doesn't talk about it much," Tamai said, rubbing the back of her neck, "because it's kind of a sore topic with Brianna. But I was... well, I was his first choice. Not her."

"Really?"

"Really." She smiled a little and shook her head. "It was a stupid thing, a product of overloaded teenage hormones. We were all just kids back then, but... well, Cin and I cared for each other."

"So what happened?"

Tamai shrugged. "Life happened. Cin went on to be a beroya and I started training to be a Ranger. Factor in Brianna pushing to claim Stripes for her own and… well, let's just say our little romance didn't last long."

"So… why did you attack him when we first met? That's not really the normal way to greet your ex."

Tamai laughed. "You obviously haven't seen my exes, then."

Jay could believe it; Mandalorians treated love very differently from outsiders. She still didn't quite understand Mando courtship rituals, and part of her had begun to suspect that was the point.

"We didn't part on the best of terms when we saw each other last." Tamai leaned against the tree trunk, folding her arms. "Some things were said that… that we both wish we could take back."

"But," Jay proceeded slowly, careful not to overstep her bounds, "things are better now? Between you two?"

Tamai shrugged. "I guess. Many old wounds can be healed over the corpse of an echo snake."

"What?"

"It's a figure of speech down here. It means that strife can bring people back together."

"I see. Or, at least I think I do."

"Don't lose your mind over it," Tamai said, staring out at the camp. "We have more important things to attend to."

She glanced over at Jay. "I hope you're everything Cin says you are. The Kar'ta Epar'e won't go easy on you because you're an aruetii."

Jay raised her chin. "I never expected them to."

"Smart girl." Tamai pushed away from the tree and headed back into camp. "The funeral will start in half an hour. You're welcome to attend, so long as you keep quiet."

The flicker of fire lit up the shivering, waving branches of the trees overhead. The fallen Mandalorians – three in all – were arranged on an interlocked bed of sturdy jungle steelbark planks. Their arms were folded over their chests, their weapons tucked beneath their palms. Their helmets had been removed and were placed at their feet, and their armor tabs – recording devices similar to Imperial identification tags – had been removed and given to Ranger-Commander Che'daje for delivery to their next of kin. The remaining Rangers and Berserkers had gathered around the pyre with their heads bowed in respect. From the looks of the crowd, it didn't look like anyone was sleeping any more.

Ranger-Commander Che'daje was approaching the pyre now, a lit torch held high in one hand. As she moved through the ranks of her men, a low and muted hum began to rise through the air. It was deep and sorrowful, so strong it made Jay's chest vibrate. She didn't know what it was until she looked around and realized the Mandalorians were beginning to sing.

It was a mournful melody that sent shivers down her spine, especially when it swelled as the Ranger-Commander approached the pyre. It looked like every Mandalorian present was transfixed on the fire dancing at the end of her torch. Before the Cathar warrior could light the pyre, however, a rough hand flashed out and caught her wrist.

Norac Benz was standing next to her, an unreadable expression on his gaunt face.

"Let me," was all he said.

The Ranger-Commander stared at him for a few long moments, then slowly nodded. Benz took the torch firmly, raising it above his head and staring into the fire for a long moment. Then he turned to the crowd. He licked his lips once before he spoke.

"This pyre," he called, "doesn't burn for these three alone. This jungle has claimed the lives of many Mando'ade. Fathers. Mothers. Brothers and sisters. Sons and daughters. These fallen warriors – Rangers and Kelborns and Berserkers and all the rest – received no rites. Yet we remember them now with the freshly fallen. The fire of that memory will burn within us for as long as we live, and they will live eternally because of it."

He gestured with the torch to Tamai, who was standing with Hyperion Lee not far away. "Ranger Vasser's team was the latest to go missing. She says they were all killed by the Kar'ta Epar'e. Let us all pray that they are the last."

There was a smattering of agreements and hear, hears. Norac nodded reassuringly to Tamai, whose eyes were suddenly brimming with tears. But the woman just sniffed and nodded back. The Clanmaster then turned back to the pyre and raised the torch even higher. He bowed his head and spoke, almost too softly for Jay to hear.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

A chorus of murmured words echoed his declaration. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

She knew those words: Not gone, merely marching far away. It was an old saying, spoken of the dead.

Benz turned back to the pyre and lowered the torch to the grass that covered the steelbark slabs. The fire caught almost immediately, roaring over the pyre and consuming the bodies lying there. He stared into the fire for a few moments before he tucked the torch between the layers of the pyre, allowing it to feed the blaze.

As soon as the cremation began, the assembled Mandalorians began to pound out a slow beat, hammering their fists against their chest plates in time with the funeral dirge they were already humming. The music grew and grew, until Jay could hear it echoing back to them through the trees. And then, through all the music, a single high female voice began to sing.

"Motir… ca'tra nau tracinya… Gra'tua… cun hett su… dralshy'a…"

Jay glanced over to search for the singer and saw with surprise that it was Tamai. Her head was bowed and her arms were folded tightly in front of her as if she were still struggling mightily not to cry. But despite this, her voice was clear, strong, and unwavering. Jay would not have guessed the woman to be such a talented singer.

And at her words, others began to join the chorus. Deep voices and high-pitched ones, strong voices and weak ones all joined together in a mournful union that echoed through the jungle.

"Bal kote… darasuum kote… Jorso'ran… Kando a tome…"

Jay was about to lean over and ask Vhetin what the words meant when she realized that he, too, had lent his voice to the group. His voice was low and quiet, so much so that she had to strain to hear him over the others, but he was singing along with all the rest. His eyes were fixed on his boots, and he wasn't looking up to watch the inferno consume the fallen warriors on the pyre.

Norac Benz, meanwhile, had dropped the torch and spread his arms, his form silhouetted against the raging blaze in front of him. His head was bowed and his arms were spread as he listened to the music swelling through the clearing. He raised his voice over the song and called out words Jay definitely had heard before.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc." His voice boomed through the clearing, easily overpowering the funeral dirge. "Ni partayli, gar darasuum. Hear us, vode, and know that you will live on in the Manda for eternity."

These words needed no outside translation: I am alive, but you are dead. Yet I remember you, so you are eternal. They were a Mandalorian remembrance of the dead, a tribute to the fallen meant to remind both the spirits and the ones who lived on that the dead would not be forgotten. It was a beautiful sentiment, and one that Jay herself had been forced to turn to on occasion. She still thought of those words when remembering her lost comrades from her days as an Imperial pilot.

Across the clearing, Hyperion Lee put an arm around Tamai's shoulders. But the fair-haired Ranger still refused to break down, raising her chin as she watched the cremation flames grow higher and higher. Her chin quivered slightly, but she showed no other outward sign of mourning for her lost men. It obviously took a great deal to reign back such powerful emotions.

Jay's heart went out to the woman; as much as they pretended to be the pinnacle of all warrior traditions, Mandalorians were just people. They loved and lost just like everyone else. Tamai very clearly mourned her lost team as if they were family. After losing her own team in a similar fashion, Jay could sympathize with that kind of loss.

But Jay knew as well as Tamai that they couldn't afford to show weakness or frailty now. They all had a mission to do, and that took precedence over personal grief. It was always a difficult decision, but sometimes personal feelings had to be put aside for the present moment until it was safer to dig them back up again. Looking at Tamai, it was clear that the warrior was doing just that, though not easily.

The song began to taper off. Jay glanced over at Vhetin to find him with his head still bowed. The other Mandalorians around her were all in similar states of self-reflection or mourning, heads bowed or hands over their hearts. No one spoke, or even so much as moved.

She suddenly felt very out of place. She didn't know these customs, didn't know the words to the songs that were being sung or the motions to properly honor the fallen. She had paid her respects, but now she didn't really belong here. This was a ceremony for men she had not known, and it should be reserved for those who did; or at least those who knew their culture.

She slowly backed away, moving back toward the camp without drawing attention to herself. No one paid her any mind. She was, after all, a lone aruetii in a camp full of Mandalorians. Her absence would not be noted or missed.

Three dead, she thought, and that was just an overgrown river serpent. What else is hiding in these trees? And if a single snake can take out three trained Mandalorians, what could we possibly do to stop these Heart-Eaters?

She now knew why Shysa was taking this so seriously, and why he was so adamant to push for peace. For the first time in a very long time, the Mandalorians were facing a more powerful opponent. One that could outmaneuver them, outplay them, and – if need be – outfight them. The Kar'ta Epar'e were not a conventional enemy. They would not be lured from their trees, and would not fight fair.

She shuddered to think of the carnage that would follow a full-scale conflict with these mysterious creatures. On the large scale, it would make little difference; the Rangers could simply pull out of the Werda Kurs, take all their artifacts with them, and not look back. The maps would show an X over the forests with a label of here be monsters. The Werda Kurs and Kar'ta Epar'e would be a humbling example that while habitable, Mandalore was far from a tamed world. And elsewhere, life would go on.

But for the people who called this inhospitable jungle home, it would be a massacre. Hundreds, maybe thousands would die. Men, women, and children, vanishing as swiftly and mysteriously as Tamai's team. That couldn't happen.

I don't know why people decided to settle in this Force-forsaken jungle, she thought. But it's their home now as much as it is the Heart-Eaters'. They deserve to be here too.

She doubted the Kar'ta Epar'e would see it that way.

She was halfway back to her tent when a cracking branch overhead drew her attention. A shower of falling leaves cascaded down around her and she instantly drew her pistol, aiming up into the canopy and squinting to see through the darkness.

At first, she thought it was just an overgrown monkey-lizard. Maybe some kind of oddly-shaped bird. But then she noticed arms, legs, and angular armor plating.

A man was sitting above her, resting on his haunches on the thick tree branch high overhead.

At least, she thought it was a man. He was lanky and muscular, wearing rough protective armor that looked pieced together from bits of leather, twisted metal, and thin strips of wood. His hair hung in thick dreadlocks that cascaded down around his face, which was hidden from view in the shadows of the trees.

Jay hesitated, too shocked to move. Was this one of the Kelborns, or the other locals that prowled this part of the jungle? The man carried a long, angular spear clutched in one spindly-fingered hand; definitely a local Mandalorian weapon.

He hadn't noticed her. For some reason, his gaze was fixed on the funeral procession. It was as if nothing else mattered at that moment. He was entranced, head cocked curiously to one side as he watched the Mandalorians honor their dead.

But then the man suddenly stiffened and his head snapped down to stare at her through the dark tree branches. And through the soft, drizzling rain, she saw his eyes glowed with livid gold light.

Jay's mind could spit out only one word: Kar'ta Epar'e. She tightened her finger on the firing stud of her weapon, ready to shoot up into the trees. Her mind screamed that she had to attack first or she – and most likely everyone else in this camp – would be dead in the next few minutes.

But before she could snap off a shot, her target let out a deep snarl and threw himself sideways into a tight knot of leaves and vines. She heard the branches shaking as he retreated back toward the river and the dark jungle beyond.

In a few seconds, it was as if no one had been there at all.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter. Finals had me bogged down for longer than I thought. I had hoped to get straight back to work as soon as I got back home, but I conveniently forgot that our internet here absolutely SUCKS. It took ten minutes just for the page to load allowing me to post this chapter. *aggressively rolls eyes*

Anyway, provided I don't lose internet connection entirely, I should have another one up and running soon. And in case it's not ready in time, happy holidays!