The morning sky was not the soft gold Ahce had grown used to. It was a restless gray, heavy and bruised with the promise of rain. The sun had vanished behind thick storm clouds, and the air felt electric, charged with the wild energy of an approaching tempest. Even the forest seemed uneasy. The birds had gone silent, and the rustling of leaves had become a low, anxious murmur.
Ahce stepped outside her hut, squinting against the rising wind. The scent of damp earth filled her lungs as she gazed up at the horizon. A thick wall of fog was already creeping through the trees, swallowing the world in slow, rolling waves. The sound of distant thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, deep and long like the growl of an unseen beast.
"A storm," she murmured. "And a big one."
She didn't need her survival instincts to tell her what to do. Immediately, she began to move, swift, deliberate, and efficient.
