You and your family have embarked on a long awaited vacation, camping in the dense woods for two weeks. Despite the serene surroundings, your mood is overshadowed by a disturbing dream you can't seem to shake. You were just complaining to your mother about it. In the dream, you felt someone slip into your sleeping bag, their presence invasive and threatening. The figure brandished a red knife, whispering ominously before you managed to scratch their face in a desperate act of defense, sending them fleeing into the shadows.

As you recount the dream to your mother, Jeff, a local boy who had graciously helped your family settle into the campsite, approaches. With a casual smile, he offers to catch some fish from the nearby river. Your mother, eager to involve you in the outdoor experience, insists you accompany him, despite your reluctance. Jeff assures you , "Don't worry, I won't let those delicate hands of yours do any heavy lifting."

As you walk through the forest alongside Jeff, you notice several scratches on his face and neck. You dismissed the observation, after all, living in the woods must come with its fair share of scrapes and bruises.

Suddenly, dark clouds gather overhead, and heavy rain begins to pour. Jeff gestures towards a makeshift shelter he built long ago while exploring the woods, and you both take refuge from the downpour.

Sitting across from him, you watch as he pulls a small red pocket knife. He begins to whittle a piece of wood with an intensity, carving it into a sharp spear. The rhythmic scrape of the knife against wood fills the silence between you.

"You looked peaceful while you were sleeping last night," he mutters, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.