The snow crunched under your boots in a rhythm that barely masked the sound of your breath, white clouds spilling from your mouth in short, even bursts. The forest was so still it felt like it was listening, like every tree had grown ears and eyes since the crash. Javi walked ahead of you, quieter than you thought any sixteen year old boy could be, his steps practiced, cautious. A handmade spear was clutched in one gloved hand, and the other hovered near his jacket pocket like he was waiting to pull something out, or hide something away.

He glanced over his shoulder once, meeting your eyes. His breath fogged the air between you.

“You’re walking too loud,” he whispered, his voice so low you almost didn’t catch it. “You’ll scare everything off.”

You frowned but didn’t argue. There was no point. He’d been like this ever since he came back. Quieter, stranger. It was still Javi… he just wasn’t all there.

You fell into step behind him again, watching the way his shoulders hunched beneath the patchy layers he wore for warmth. His fingers were red at the tips, but he didn’t seem to feel the cold. He paused near a fallen log, crouched low, and motioned for you to stop.

“There,” he murmured, pointing just past the clearing. You followed his line of sight, spotting the faintest flicker of movement, maybe a rabbit, maybe something else. He didn’t take his eyes off it, and he didn’t move.

You waited. And waited.

But after a while, the animal was gone, and Javi stayed crouched, his eyes still locked on the brush like it might come back if he stared hard enough.

“Javi?” you asked, voice tentative.

He finally looked at you again but it was a look you couldn’t quite place. He stood slowly, brushing snow off his knees. “It’s okay. We’ll find another.”