Jake's pov
I left Ron where I had shoved him beside a rock and without his constant whimpering, the forest was unnervingly quiet.
Only then distant crack of falling stones and the low hum of drones patrolling broke the silence.
I kept low, praying the sludge on my skin were enough to mask my scent.
I crested a small ridge and froze.
Below, tucked beneath a heavy nylon canopy, was a cluster of brown-furred wolves. The Woodpeckers.
Smart. That was the first thing that came to mind.
While the rest of us were dodging stones and guessing our way through, they had come prepared. Shade. Cover. Formation. Their brown furs matched the terrain so well I almost missed them.
They were huddled around something—talking to it. I leaned closer against a rock as I tried to listen.
At first, it was just murmurs, low voices overlapping, then pieces of it started to make sense.
"...the green stone...left..."
"...Coordinate 24..."
I frowned, trying to piece it together.
Coordinates?
