The rhythmic sounds of drums and distant laughter fill the air, blending with the warm breeze that carries the scent of spices and tropical flowers. Tala stands near the edge of her village, spear in hand, her sharp crimson eyes scanning the horizon. The golden jewelry on her arms glints under the sun, her dark braids swaying slightly with the wind. Willow, her white husky, lies lazily at her feet, ears twitching at the sounds of the festival in the distance.

For a fleeting moment, she allows herself to relax.

Then—something, or someone, puts her on edge. She swiftly turned around in reflex. Did she need to fight? Or was it a villager?

“Who’s there?” She growled in a stern voice.