Stephanie's POV
The morning we left was so quiet it felt wrong.
There was no fanfare. No speech. We just looked at each other, nodded, and started loading the boat. We had our water, stored in sealed coconuts. We had strips of dried fish and smoked grump wrapped in leaves. We had the mats I'd woven and a spear Cane had made, just in case. That was it. That was everything we owned in the world.
The boat sat in the lagoon, bobbing like it was impatient. It still looked ridiculous. It was a hollowed-out log with vaguely boat-like shapes carved into it. But it floated. That was all that mattered.
Cane helped me in. I had to be careful with my balance now. I settled onto the mat in the middle, my back against the curved wall. He pushed us off the sand, wading into the water until it hit his chest, then gave one last, mighty shove and hauled himself over the side. We rocked wildly for a second, water sloshing in over the edges. My heart leapt into my throat. Then it steadied.
