Jonah opened his mouth to reply when something stopped him. He froze mid-step, hand lifting.

The others halted. For a long moment, there was only the rustle of leaves.

They crept forward, boots careful on the undergrowth, until the trees thinned. And there, in a sunlit clearing, sat a small wooden hut with a curl of smoke rising from its chimney. Outside, cross-legged on the grass, a blonde girl strummed a guitar, her fingers moving lazily across the strings. Opposite her, a tiny figure sat entranced, knees tucked to her chest, brown hair falling over her face.

The four boys stood frozen at the edge of the clearing, weapons half-raised, unsure whether to lower them.