Chapter 17: Lines in the Soil

The forest was alive with the soft murmur of wind brushing through the trees. Early morning sunlight filtered through the canopy, painting the ground in streaks of gold. Atsushi stood by the northern trail, his eyes fixed on the fresh tracks that cut through the soil. They were deliberate, unmistakable. Whoever had passed through had wanted their presence noticed.

Ana crouched nearby, her fingers tracing the edges of the prints. Her face was calm, but her eyes betrayed a sharp focus. “These are recent,” she said. “No more than a few hours old.”

“Close enough to make a point,” Atsushi muttered. “Too close.”

Behind them, Kaede shifted nervously, his grip tightening on his spear. “Do you think they’re watching us now?”

“Probably,” Ana said, rising to her feet. She scanned the surrounding trees, her gaze lingering on the shadows between the trunks. “They’ve been testing how far they can push without us pushing back.”

Atsushi frowned. “And what happens when they decide to stop testing?”

Ana didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned toward Kaede. “Go back to the village. Tell the elder what we’ve found and double the patrols on this side.”

Kaede hesitated, glancing between them. “What about you?”

“We’ll finish here,” Ana said. “Go.”

Kaede nodded reluctantly and disappeared down the trail. When the sound of his footsteps faded, Ana let out a slow breath. “They’re baiting us.”

“Trying to draw us out?” Atsushi asked.

Ana nodded. “It’s a game. If we take the bait, we risk walking into a trap. If we don’t, they’ll keep inching closer until we’re surrounded.”

Atsushi crouched beside the tracks, studying them. “So what do we do?”

Ana tilted her head, considering. “We give them a reason to think twice.”

Back in the village, the mood was strained. The discovery of the tracks had spread quickly, and the tension was visible in every movement, every glance toward the forest. The hunters were restless, their weapons sharpened and ready. Villagers whispered in hushed tones, their worry growing with each passing hour.

Atsushi and Ana stood with the elder by the fire pit, the crackling flames casting long shadows across their faces. The elder’s expression was as calm as ever, though his grip on his staff betrayed his unease.

“We can’t ignore this,” Ana said. “If they’re trying to provoke us, we need to show them we’re not afraid.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” the elder asked.

“A warning,” Ana replied. “If they leave tracks, we erase them. If they come closer, we make sure they know they’re being watched.”

The elder considered her words, his gaze shifting to Atsushi. “And you? What do you think?”

Atsushi hesitated. “I think she’s right, but it’s a risk. If we misstep, we could escalate things faster than we’re ready for.”

“Better than waiting for them to act first,” Ana said.

The elder nodded slowly. “Very well. But tread carefully. We can’t afford to lose anyone.”

That afternoon, Ana led a small group to the northern trail. Atsushi joined her, along with Daichi and two other hunters. The group moved in silence, their footsteps muffled by the forest floor. The air was heavy, the usual sounds of the woods muted as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.

When they reached the tracks, Ana signaled for the group to spread out. Daichi muttered something under his breath but obeyed, taking up position near the edge of the trail. Atsushi knelt by the tracks, his fingers brushing the disturbed soil.

“These are deliberate,” he said. “Too straight, too clean. They wanted us to find them.”

Ana nodded. “Which means they’re watching. Stay sharp.”

The group worked quickly, erasing the tracks and scanning the area for any signs of movement. The tension was palpable, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig setting their nerves on edge.

“Over here,” Daichi called softly.

Ana and Atsushi moved to his side, where he pointed to a tree at the edge of the trail. Carved into the bark was a crude symbol—a jagged line crossed by two shorter strokes. Blood stained the grooves, dark and dried.

“What does it mean?” Atsushi asked.

“A challenge,” Ana said grimly. “Or a claim. Either way, they’re marking territory.”

Daichi’s hand tightened around the hilt of his blade. “We should respond.”

Ana glanced at him sharply. “And do what? Carve our own symbol? That’s exactly what they want.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Daichi shot back.

“We erase it,” Ana said firmly. “And keep moving.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of tension and preparation. Patrols were increased, the hunters took up positions near the village perimeter, and the villagers worked to reinforce the weaker sections of the wall. Atsushi moved between the infirmary and the fire pit, his thoughts racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time. The other tribe’s movements were growing bolder, their intentions clearer. And while the village was doing its best to prepare, the odds felt insurmountable.

Ana found him near the fire pit as the sun dipped below the horizon. She tossed a bundle of dried meat onto the ground beside him and sat down, her expression unreadable.

“You look like hell,” she said.

“Thanks,” Atsushi said dryly. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

Ana smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You’re thinking too much.”

“Someone has to,” Atsushi muttered. “We can’t keep reacting to them. At some point, we need a real plan.”

Ana leaned back, staring at the sky as the first stars began to emerge. “You’re not wrong. But plans don’t mean much when the other side doesn’t play by the rules.”

Atsushi glanced at her, studying her profile. Despite her sharp edges and unyielding demeanor, there was a quiet strength in her that he couldn’t ignore.

“We’ll figure it out,” she said after a long pause. “One way or another.”

Night fell, and the village settled into an uneasy quiet. The patrols moved like shadows along the perimeter, their torches casting flickering light on the walls. Atsushi sat outside the infirmary, the fractured device in his hands. Its glow was faint but steady, a small comfort in the darkness.

Ana appeared beside him, her movements silent as ever. She didn’t say anything at first, simply sitting down and staring at the horizon.

“You ever think about how this ends?” Atsushi asked quietly.

Ana’s gaze didn’t waver. “I don’t think that far ahead.”

“Why not?” Atsushi pressed.

“Because I’m too busy thinking about what comes next,” Ana said. “If you start worrying about the end, you miss what’s right in front of you.”

Atsushi sighed, turning the device over in his hands. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not,” Ana admitted. “But it’s what works.”