The oppressive canopy of Anansi's Forest had grudgingly yielded to a slightly less suffocating density of trees.
The stiffness in Leonotis's leg, a burning memory of his solitary foolishness, had eased to a dull throb, thanks to Jacqueline's gentle water magic and several hours of tense, fitful rest.
A fragile, unspoken camaraderie, forged in shared terror and unexpected teamwork, had blossomed between the unlikely trio.
As they resumed their cautious journey along a barely discernible animal track, the silence, though still heavy with the forest's unseen watchers, was broken by Leonotis's burgeoning curiosity. He was beginning to understand that survival here wasn't just about his magic; it was about them.
"So," he began, his voice a little rough, looking at Jacqueline whose ethereal grace seemed a strange counterpoint to the grime on her cheek.
"How exactly did you two find me in that… that creepy spider forest back there? When I was… you know." He gestured vaguely, the memory of his fear and the venom's disorienting haze still vivid.
Jacqueline offered a small, hesitant smile, a genuine, radiant expression that momentarily banished the deep sadness that usually clouded her sapphire eyes.
"Low has… a remarkable sense of smell, Leonotis. And senses beyond that, I think." She glanced at Low with a newfound respect.
Leonotis turned to Low, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. She was still scanning the undergrowth, her movements economical and alert.
"Smell? You smelled your way to me? Through all that… muck and leaves?"
Low spared him a quick, almost annoyed glance, a slight grimace touching her lips.
"Yep. Like tracking a particularly ripe… well, never mind what. You reeked of panic and boy-sweat mostly."
"Smell me?" Leonotis asked again, a note of indignation creeping in. He sniffed his own arm tentatively, then his tunic. He made a face.
"What do I actually smell like?"
Low didn't mince words, her lips twitching with the ghost of a smirk.
"Like unwashed boy who's been rolling in leaf litter and spider guts. You haven't exactly had a bath since the orphanage, you know. None of us have."
Jacqueline actually giggled then, a light, melodic sound that was so unexpected it startled a nearby bird into a flurry of indignant chirps.
Leonotis took another, more thorough sniff of himself, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
"Huh. You know what? You're absolutely right. I could definitely use a very, very long shower."
Even he had to chuckle at the absurdity of worrying about his scent when they were fighting for their lives.
The shared moment of unexpected honesty, the easy banter, broke some of the lingering tension.
A wave of slightly hysterical laughter rippled through their small group, echoing for a moment in the otherwise silent, watchful woods.
It felt good, this brief, shared lightness.
Their lightheartedness, however, was as fragile as a dew-kissed spiderweb in the morning sun.
Rounding a tangled bend in the overgrown path, where ancient roots coiled like sleeping pythons, they were confronted by a sight that made the laughter die in their throats and their blood run cold.
A monstrous spider, easily the twin of the one that had nearly ended Leonotis, its bulbous body the size of a small cart, its eight hairy legs as thick and gnarled as ancient tree trunks, descended with horrifying speed from the dense canopy on a thick, shimmering strand of silk.
Its multiple eyes, like polished black beads, fixed on them with an immediate, undeniable predatory hunger, and thick, opalescent strands of viscous webbing dripped from its chittering fangs.
Panic, cold and sharp, flared in Leonotis's chest, but this time, it was met by a surge of adrenaline and the fresh memory of their earlier, desperate teamwork.
He saw Low's hand instinctively go to her pouch of throwing stones, her stance widening.
He saw Jacqueline's chin lift, a cool blue light already beginning to gather around her slender hands.
They didn't need words.
A quick, hard glance passed between them – fear, yes, but also a grim, shared resolve.