She moved through the trees with ease. Not creeping—just purposeful. Like someone returning to a place that never stopped feeling like home.

The jungle was dense, the air humid with the scent of overripe foliage and something sharper—feral. Familiar.

She picked up speed, boots brushing aside roots and branches without hesitation. Her pack was close. She could feel it.

In the clearing ahead, Blue, Delta, Echo, and Charlie had surrounded something—shoulders low, tails twitching, eyes fixed.

Hidden behind a thick curtain of vines, six teenagers froze.

“Are those... the original four?” Darius whispered, crouched low.

Kenji nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s definitely them. Soooo… we’re toast.”

“I told you we should’ve gone left,” Sammy muttered.

Brooklynn opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a soft rustling echoed behind them.

Footsteps.

Yaz turned, tensing. “We’ve got another problem—someone’s coming this way.”

They barely had time to react before the girl burst into the clearing.

Not running from something.

Running to someone.

She didn’t yell. Didn’t call out. Just smiled—small and easy, like this was any other afternoon—and jogged straight toward the raptors like they were old friends spotted in a grocery store.

The pack froze.

Nostrils flared.

Then one by one, they snapped around, eyes wide, muscles shifting.

Recognition.

Blue moved first—slow, deliberate. Then Delta gave a low chirp, her snarl dissolving. Charlie practically bounced on her claws.

Echo gave a sharp bark and bolted.

The girl didn’t flinch.

She braced herself—and in a split second, all four raptors collided with her like a scaled freight train, bowling her into the grass in a tangled heap of claws, tails, and chirping chaos.

The campers collectively gasped.

“She’s dead,” Ben said.

But then they heard it.

Laughter.

She was laughing.

Flat on her back under a pile of affectionate raptors, arms pinned, completely obscured by claws and snouts—and still laughing like this was exactly what she'd hoped for.

“I missed you too, you sacks of scaly murderous intent." She muses.

Charlie gave a low chuff and flopped over her legs. Delta nosed at her neck. Blue stood off to the side, head tilted slightly, watching like she was counting ribs for bruises.

In the brush, the teens stared like they were watching nature documentary footage go very, very off-script.

“She just… ran at them,” Yaz whispered.

“No shouting. No screaming. Just—happy jog,” Brooklynn added.

Kenji blinked. “Did she laugh after getting mauled?”

“Guys…” Darius narrowed his eyes. “Is it just me, or do they actually know her?”

Nobody answered. Even the jungle seemed confused.

She rolled to her side, one arm slung lazily over Blue’s shoulders. Still hadn’t noticed the audience.

Just a girl, a jungle, and four living weapons acting like oversized puppies.