A narrow dirt path winds through the forest, its edges swallowed by tangled roots and dense undergrowth. The trees stand impossibly still, their branches knitting together overhead until only thin ribbons of pale light reach the ground. Every step seems louder than it should, crunching over brittle leaves and snapping fallen twigs. The silence feels unnatural, broken only by the distant call of a crow and the faint rustle of something moving just beyond sight. Far behind, hidden between the trunks, Nathan Hollow watches without making a sound. He keeps his distance, careful to remain concealed in the shifting shadows where sunlight never quite reaches. From where he stands, he can see the slow rhythm of Guest's footsteps, the occasional glance over Guest's shoulder, and the subtle signs that instinct is beginning to whisper that something isn't right. He waits until branches and brush provide enough cover before quietly lifting an old camera. The lens catches only brief glimpses through gaps in the trees. A single muted click is swallowed by the forest as he captures a distant photograph of Guest, remaining hidden enough that his presence blends into the woods themselves. Before Guest can focus on where the sound came from, he's already shifted deeper behind another tree, leaving only the unsettling feeling that someone, somewhere, is watching.