They camped in the middle of the woods that night, as far from any cliffs or roads or open ground as they could get.Pines on all sides of them. Tall trees, silent and brooding, branches thick enough to obscure the RV from above. Greer gathered long limbs and piled them over the vehicle. Camouflaged it, hidden in the trees like a hunter. No one said much. Their movements were slow, stiff with fatigue.
It had been a long day. The ambush still felt recent.
When it came time for dinner, Julyah didn't need to be told. She rolled up her sleeves and tied her hair back with a strip of cloth. Kneeling beside the small portable stove they used when they ran low on wood, she settled into it. Light was low, but her hands were sure.
Water boiled and bubbled gently in the pot. She dropped the last of their rice in. Stirred in a handful of dried vegetables, a few drops of oil, and watched as the whole thing began to steam and soften. She moved deliberately, precise. Felt like she was handling something fragile. This wasn't just food. It was hope. Something warm. Something to hold on to. Something to fill their empty bellies and ease their nerves.
Her face was streaked with dirt, her forehead slick with sweat, but her eyes never left the pot.Firelight flickered across her cheekbones. Her hands were steady. She had done this before, so many times.
We can't keep living like this, she thought. How are we going to fight if we can't even eat? How do we keep running if we're starving?
She brushed her thumb along her wrist, the enchanted flower tattooed there, pulsing faintly. It gave her warmth, a sense of steadiness. She didn't have to speak it aloud. The tattoo answered to her mind. In response, it offered her a few more supplies: a pinch of herbs, a tiny cube of bouillon, a thin strip of dried meat. It wasn't much, but it would stretch the meal a bit farther. She worked quickly, making sure the others couldn't see.
Ellis wandered over, leaning back casually against a tree a few feet away. His smile was easy, almost lazy, but his eyes were sharp.
"Why do you always cook this well?" he asked. "Smells better than whatever I was expecting."
Julyah didn't look up. Stirred the pot again, gently. "I've had practice."
Ellis stepped closer, his voice lower now. "And the extra food? I don't remember seeing that in our stockpile."
She hesitated, then looked at him. "I rationed some things. Saved a few things back when we had more."
Ellis raised an eyebrow. "Smart. You hiding any chocolate too?"
Julyah gave a small shrug. "Only if you're dying."
He laughed softly. "Well, I might be if I don't get a bowl soon."
He wandered away again, still smiling, and sat near the others, who had begun to gather. The smell of food had drawn them out of the trees. They came one by one, tired, quiet, hungry.
Adrian was the first to speak. He crouched beside the stove and nodded once as he inhaled.
"Smells like hope," he said softly.
Greer sat nearby, one arm in a rough sling from the fight the night before. "Hope and hunger. I'll take both right now."
Mira stood back from the group, arms folded across her chest. She didn't say anything. Her eyes were on Julyah, not on the food or the stove, but on her. Mira's mouth was tight, expression unreadable. But jealousy flickered behind her eyes like a flame behind glass.
Julyah felt it without looking. She didn't understand it completely, but it was there. Heavy. Sharp. Unspoken.
She ladled out food carefully, doling it out to everyone. Small bowls passed from hand to hand. When she gave Adrian his bowl, their fingers brushed for a moment. He murmured a quiet "Thank you" that felt heavier than it should. Mira saw the touch. So did Ellis. Neither of them said anything, but something shifted in the air.
Greer took her food and sat away from the group.
Ellis slid back into a seat beside Julyah and began talking again. Light stories, old jokes, teasing remarks about Bryce's awful snoring and the song stuck in his head since they left the last outpost. Julyah laughed, not a full laugh, but a soft one. The sound was real, if short-lived.
Adrian watched them for a while. Then, without a word, he rose and walked over. "Mind if I join you two?" he asked. Ellis smiled and scooted over slightly. "It's a free forest." Adrian sat beside Julyah, not close enough to touch, but close enough to alter the balance. Ellis noticed. His grin faltered for a moment. Mira, still standing apart from the others, narrowed her eyes.
After they had finished eating, Julyah took the dirty bowls and walked down to a small stream that ran between stones coated in moss. Sun had vanished, left a soft gray light over the trees. She crouched near the water and scrubbed the bowls slowly.Cold soaked into her hands.
She heard footsteps behind her. Mira.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The only sound was water moving over rocks.
Then Mira said, "You like playing leader now?"
Julyah glanced up. "What?"
"You're not in charge, Julyah. You think you're special?"
"I'm not trying to be special," Julyah said, rinsing a bowl.
Mira stepped closer. "You think Adrian looks out for you because of trust? He's just confused. People follow feelings, not facts. You should be careful with that."
Julyah straightened. Her voice stayed even. "I never asked him to protect me."
"Maybe not. But you're not exactly pushing him away, either."
Julyah turned away. "If you have something to say, Mira, just say it."
Mira's voice was cold. "People die when they think they matter more than the group. You keep secrets, make quiet deals, and soon the whole group breaks."
Julyah didn't answer. Picked up the clean bowls and walked past Mira without another word.
Back at camp, Adrian stood near the fire. When he saw her, his eyes swept her face.
"What happened?"
"Nothing," she said. "Just Mira being Mira."
He didn't look satisfied, but he nodded.
Later that night, Julyah took second watch with Adrian. The others slept, bundled in blankets and shadows. The fire crackled gently. It cast soft light on their faces. They sat close enough to share the heat.
She glanced at his bandaged shoulder. "Still hurting?"
"A bit," he said.
"You didn't have to step in like that."
"I did."
"Why?"
He looked at her for a long moment.Firelight caught the edge of his expression.
"Because I care if you live."
She didn't say anything. Just tossed another piece of wood into the fire.
And for the rest of their watch, they sat in silence beneath the stars, listening to the night breathe.