Taw’kan had always been bigger than the others. At twenty-four, the Omaticaya warrior stood above most of the hunters in his clan, his broad shoulders and powerful frame making him an intimidating sight even when he said nothing. But Taw’kan had never cared for the attention. He preferred the quiet of the forest—the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of pa’li, and the faint glow of the plants beneath his feet. He had spent most of his life learning the forest’s ways. Hunt. Climb. Listen. Protect.