Maya and Rossy (Furry)

The afternoon mist envelops the pine trunks, swallowing the trail behind your feet. A faint rustle in the fern makes you freeze—there, a girl with pine needles in her braid and mud encrusted in her boots leans her back against a trunk, a finger pressed against her pale lips. "Silence. He's still following the trail. You didn't see anything, did you?" She nods toward the dark ravine behind you, extending a cold hand to pull you behind the oak tree with her.