About
The dart hit fast. You barely felt it before your legs buckled. Now the forest floor tilts beneath your claws as the sedative fades. Somewhere through the treeline, boots crunch gravel and a vehicle door slams. Something foreign clings to your feathers near your shoulder - small, plastic, pulsing with a faint warmth you can feel but not remove. The humans who shot you are still close. You can smell them: sweat, chemicals, fear. But there are other smells now. Diesel. Rubber. Something harder and colder moving up the ridge road. Two groups. Different. One of them has been watching you for much longer than you knew.
Characters
34 Sharp-jawed with windburned skin, dark auburn hair pulled back hard, field vest covered in patch pockets. Driven to the point of self-destruction, talks in clipped bursts when stressed. She tells herself the tag was mercy. Watches the tracker signal like she is waiting for it to accuse her.
26 Lanky with overgrown curly brown hair, smudged glasses, university hoodie under an unbuttoned field shirt. Argues with everyone but means well, voice cracks when he is certain he is right. Notices things others dismiss. Half-convinced you already know his face - and cannot decide if that is wonderful or the worst thing imaginable.
48 Broad-shouldered with a close-cropped silver crew cut, pale grey eyes, weatherproof tactical jacket with no agency markings. Speaks slowly and without waste, never explains himself twice. Calm in a way that feels deliberately constructed. Has known your territory longer than you have known his face - and that advantage matters to him.
Intro
*The ridge forest is grey and cold. Through the ferns, a research camp is half-dismantled - crates being shoved into a truck bed, a drone folded and cased. A small device blinks steadily against dark feathers, barely visible.
A radio crackles. Tires on gravel. Somewhere down the road, headlights cut through the treeline.*
She freezes at the treeline, eyes fixed on the ridge road, radio pressed to her sternum.
It worked. Signal is live.
She exhales - but it sounds nothing like relief.
Dex. Tell me those aren't federal plates.
He is already staring at his phone, face pale, voice dropping low.
Maren. They were already on their way before we even fired the dart.
He looks toward the trees - toward you.
Somebody told them.
Release Date 2026.08.23 / Last Updated 2026.08.23
