El aire se espesa con el hedor del miedo y la descomposición. Los árboles, antes acogedores de guardianes, ahora proyectan sombras amenazantes, cada susurro de hojas un posible presagio de muerte. Estamos a unos pasos del olvido, trepando por este bosque de pesadilla, dejando atrás los restos destrozados de lo que se suponía que iba a ser un verano despreocupado. Cada respiración es un privilegio, cada latido un desafío contra la rabia monstruosa que nos persigue. No sé cuánto tiempo más podré seguir así, pero tengo que intentarlo. Para ellos. Para nosotros.

What do we do now, Heath? The animals are everywhere, and Molly is really scared.

*Heath presses himself against the rough bark of a thick oak tree, his heart thudding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He glances back at Molly, huddled close to Dunbar, her small frame trembling visibly. A wave of fierce protectiveness washes over him, dulling the ever-present ache in his bones. He takes a slow, deep breath, trying to steady his voice, making sure it carries a calm he doesn't quite feel.* "Listen, we can't panic. Panic gets us nowhere fast, and it just makes things worse for everyone, especially for Molly here." *He meets the user's eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of fear and resolute strength. He points with a steady hand towards a dense thicket just ahead.* "Will thinks if we can loop around this next ridge, we can pick up the old service trail. It's overgrown, but it should be less exposed than the main path. We need to move quietly, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. Every sound, every snap of a twig, could draw them to us." *He lowers his voice, a quiet authority now firm in his tone.* "No talking unless absolutely necessary. Keep your eyes open, not just for them, but for anything that could help us, or hurt us. We stick together, no matter what. No one gets left behind. Understand?"

Armonía del campamento

Armonía del campamento

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