Season 1, Chapter 1 - Outburst

Silas knelt in the dirt, claws burrowed in the soil, with a bead of sweat sliding down from his temple as he wrestled with the stubborn vine. His obsidian skin was taut, with streaks of multicolored demonic blood coursing through his body. Fighting the pumpkin patch, which was stretching unevenly behind him, half thriving, ridden with chaos.

"You know," Toni said, leaning on the fence with a grin, "If you keep pulling like that, you're going to rip the whole thing out." He chuckled.

"I WANT to rip the whole damn thing out," Silas muttered, tugging harder. His veins throbbed, with his grip digging into the vines' flesh. Yet, the vine refused to budge, holding to the soil like it knew it was winning.

Toni hopped the fence, his boots crunching in the dry soil. "That's not how farming works, plants need love, not violence."

"I gave it... a whole two barrels... of water. That's love." Silas leaned back with all his weight. "This thing doesn't love me back!"

Toni crouched down beside him, poking the base of the vine. "Maybe it hates you. Imagine that. Hated by a pumpkin!"

Silas looked back. "I hate it too."

"Look, you have to let it grow on you." Toni went on, brushing the vine with their hands, "The pumpkin will only give up if you serenade it."

Silas blinked. "You want to serenade it?"

"Watch the master at work." Toni patted the ferocious vine. "Mr. Vine, could you let go of the dirt so we can plant more seeds?"

Silas, still pulling with their full weight, suddenly flew backward with a grunt, collapsing backward into the dirt. He held the limp thing up like a trophy. "HAH!"

"I'm so good at this," Toni said immediately, arms crossed, chin pointed to the sky. "Never doubt my intellect."

Silas groaned, lying on the ground as he stared up at the sky. "Remind me why you’re here?"

"To supervise," Toni replied. "Clearly you need it."

Silas finally sat up, brushing dirt from his shirt. "Well, congratulations." He began to gently bow, "The great Toni has supervised another farming disaster."

"Disaster?" Toni scoffed, cracking a slight smirk, "Please. This is the beginning of an empire."

Silas raised an eyebrow. "Empire?"

"Exactly," Toni said, pacing dramatically between the rows of crop. "Pumpkins, Silas. Endless pumpkins. Which means endless pumpkin pie. Imagine it - a million pies, stacked from here to the shoreline, feeding the camp for the rest of our lives!"

Silas laughed despite himself. "What are you on about? I feel like that would be impossible."

"Not with that attitude," Toni shot back, pointing a finger at him like a general giving orders. "All we need is more space and more elbow grease!"

"And seeds," Silas deadpanned, pulling another vine from the ground. The soil gave a tired sigh as the roots snapped loose. He looked at the bare patch for a long moment, then frowned. "...Which, by the way, we're out of."

Toni froze mid-gesture. "Out?"

Silas shrugged towards the empty sack lying limp on the dirt. "No seeds. No pumpkins. No empire."

Toni slumped against the fence with dramatic flair. "My empire shattered before my crowning."

Silas chuckled under his breath. "You're crazy."

"And yet," Toni said, straightening, "you're smiling. Which means you love the idea."

"Who said that?"

"Be my partner," Toni dusted their hands off, "You can be my right-hand man."

Silas sighed, pulling another stubborn vine. "Oh, why not. I’ll finish clearing out the old patch. You, go find Wren. She's probably got seeds stashed away somewhere."

Toni perked up. "Perfect. We've not a moment to lose."

Silas gave him a look. "Whatever you say, buddy."

"Onwards!" Toni spat, already climbing the fence with a laugh.

Moving through the camp, it bustled like usual as Toni made their way past the patchwork rows of different tents and homes. The air smelled faintly of bread and woodsmoke, with the wind carrying the sound of tools or someone's laughter.

Toni strolled, beaming with excitement, or at least the kind of purpose that came with vagueness of total pumpkin domination.

Near the edge of the path, Rain was crouched low, hands buried in a pile of freshly turned soil. Their ashen hair adorned with pricks of leaves as they carefully planted a row of tulips, the splash of color a stark contrast to the camp's muted canvas and dirt.

"Toni!" Rain called out without much of a glance. "What do you think? Too much violet? I thought roses would be too harsh, but..."

Toni bent over, eyeing the patch with seriousness. "Roses. Always more roses. You can never go wrong with red."

Rain laughed softly, dusting the dirt from their knees. "Of course you'd say that." They tucked a stem gently into place with a gentle reverence. "Roses it is, then."

"You're beautifying the place faster than Silas is destroying it," Toni said with comedic flair, as he began moving away.

"High bar," Rain murmured with a smile.

Somewhere behind Toni, a loud sneeze could be heard.

A little further along, Toni spotted Iris and Nyla sitting together by a fire pit. Iris’s white wings caught the afternoon light, the feathers gleaming as she gestured wildly with one hand, her red scarf whipping around her shoulders.

"...and I told him, 'I'm sorry, who's the one with the most flying experience? Probably the ones with the damn wings!" Actual dingus." Iris barked, her voice piercing through the breeze.

Nyla, sitting opposite her, shifted uncomfortably, her long limbs folded in like she was trying to take up less space. Her glowing eyes blinked slowly as she nibbled on something flaky wrapped in cloth.

"Evening, gang," Toni said, dropping into the space with a grin.

"Evening, landlubber," Iris shot back, narrowing her eyes playfully. "What brings you through this fine bit of hell?"

"Pumpkin business," Toni replied. "Empire planning."

Iris squinted. "So the usual."

"How silly," Nyla murmured, though her tone was more shy amusement than criticism.

"Not silly if it’s delicious," Toni countered, reaching for the edge of Nyla’s pastry. "What’s that one?"

Nyla flinched slightly, pulling it back. "S-Strudel."

"Sounds fake," Toni said, straightening. "But smells good!"

Iris barked a laugh.

Before Toni could bite, a shadow cut across the firelight. Flint stomped into view, hoodie half-zipped, his blazing red eyes locked squarely on Nyla.

"There you are," he said sharply. "Come on."

Nyla blinked, pastry halfway to her mouth. "But..."

Flint grabbed her arm - not roughly, but firmly enough to make Nyla flinch - and pulled her up from the log. The pastry tumbled to the dirt, dropped.

Iris’s wings flared, the scarf snapping as she stood. "What the fuck, Blaze-boy. We were talking here!"

Flint didn’t even glance at her. "We’ve got things to do."

Nyla cast a nervous glance back at Toni and Iris and smiled, but Flint tugged her away before anyone could protest. Within moments, the two disappeared between the tents, leaving only the faint scorch of Flint’s stubbornness in the air.

Iris swore under her breath. "I'm going to douse him one day."

Toni stood there for a moment, brow furrowed, before forcing a grin. "Well. Guess that’s my cue to keep moving."

They turned toward the far end of camp, the image of Flint dragging Nyla away lingering uncomfortably in the back of their minds. Iris fell into step beside Toni as she left the firepit, her wings folded tight against her back.

"Where you headed?" she asked.

"Wren's," Toni said. "Silas and I needed more pumpkin seeds so we can start an empire."

Iris, confused, chuckled. "Sounds like a big project, hope you guys are planning to make pie!"

They walked together down the tired dirt path, connecting the whole camp. For a while, only the camp noises filled the air. Then Iris leaned in a little, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret.

"I've been flying out past the ridge," she said, eyes gleaming. "Caught sight of a jungle in the north. Big, thick canopy, with a huge cliff. Really pretty."

Toni's head tilted. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Iris went on, animated now. "I was thinking of setting up a landing spot. Just a little rest stop where I can refuel and head even further. I can't keep coming back here to resupply and lose all that distance."

"That's..." Toni spread his arms wide, "Awesome! Like a little campsite for exploring."

Iris grinned, "Exactly. You in? Could use someone to help wrangle those jungle trees."

"I'd be honored," Toni said, mock-bowing.

Before they could get carried away in plans, movement caught their eyes.

James stepped out from the treeline nearby, his figure half-shadowed by the forest. His clothes were flecked with dirt, bandages wrapped most of his frame, and his expression stayed hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Toni raised a hand in greeting.

"Hey, James!"

James didn’t slow. He passed without a glance, his gaze fixed straight ahead as though the two weren’t even there. The silence he left behind lingered heavier than it should have.

Iris adjusted her scarf with a sharp tug, muttering under her breath, "What a lousy neighbor. Man’s got the charm of a rotten plank."

Toni gave a short chuckle, but it came out softer than he meant it to, almost rueful. "Yeah... guess he’s not the warm type." He let his hand drop slowly, eyes following James’s back until it disappeared into camp.

They fell back into lighter chatter as they walked, Iris rattling off plans for her landing silo while Toni half-listened, half-thinking. By the time Wren’s hut came into view, the weight of James’s coldness had dulled.

* * * Silas wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced across the half-cleared patch. The soil, now littered with stems and pulled vines, was a graveyard of the stubborn pumpkins he'd pulled up. Already, new ideas began swirling in his head. If they really wanted pies, this field wasn't nearly enough.

He crouched, rolling a pumpkin onto its side. Not bad, he thought. But I'm going to need a lot more than this if I'm going to make a proper army.

"An army?"

Silas nearly headbutted the pumpkin. He turned to see Cheri standing a few steps away, arms crossed, horns catching the light where they curved out from her temples. A shaggy mess of brown hair covered the eyepatch over her left eye, and her one visible silver eye fixed on him with a calm detachment.

Despite the warmth of the day, she was wrapped in a heavy coat, oversized and buttoned high, as if the world around her was freezing.

Silas swallowed, forcing a half-smile. "You scared the hell out of me."

"That’s kind of my thing," Cheri said flatly, stepping closer. She nudged one of the discarded vines with a boot. "You farming, or fighting?" "Both," Silas said before he could stop himself. He bent down to tug another pumpkin loose, trying not to meet her eyes.

Cheri tilted her head. "Y'know, I’ve never seen your kind before. You’re... what, a demon too?"

The word sat awkwardly in Silas’s chest. He hesitated, then gave a short shrug. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Something like that," Cheri smirked faintly, crouching to pick at a stray leaf. "Real specific, heh."

"Look, it’s not..." Silas rubbed the back of his neck. "It’s not exactly the kind of thing I like to talk about."

Silas allowed himself a small grin, raising a hand towards the piles of pumpkins. "Snow army."

Cheri raised a brow. "Snow army?"

"Snow Golems," Silas clarified. "You stack them right, carve some faces, maybe some helmets, and you got yourself an army."

"Pffft..."

There was a pause, and then Cheri let out a loud, dry cackle, like the sound had slipped past her usual reserve. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"

"Hey..." Silas said, setting another pumpkin onto the pile, "dumb works around here."

Cheri studied him for a moment longer, then asked, "Toni know about this?"

"Not yet. That’s why you’re not gonna tell him."

"Right." Cheri tapped her chin. "That’s Wren’s kid, right?"

"He is," Silas said, fixing his posture. "You’ve met him?"

Cheri shook her head. "Nope. I’ll be honest, I just stay in my cave, my guy. Less talking, less... everything."

Silas blinked, then laughed softly. "I don't blame you, it gets crowded down there."

"Guess so," Cheri replied, turning back toward the camp. "But good luck with your... thing."

Silas looked down at the pumpkins surrounding him, half-amused, half-determined. "Thanks. I’ll need it."

* * * Shew was hunched under their poncho as they shuffled another crate across uneven boards of the dock. Their mist-tipped tail flicked with the effort, leaving faint wisps in the air as they muttered to themselves about planks and angles.

Behind them, Callum stumbled forward with a much larger crate in his arms, his dress shirt damp with sweat and seawater. His long legs wobbled as he tried to keep balance, boots slipping just a little.

"Mhm-mhm," he hummed dutifully as Shew rambled about fishing spots and pufferfish. His voice was strained with half agreement, half groan from the weight.

"I'm sorry, I must be rambling too much." Shew teased, their mismatched eyes - one bright emerald, the other a brass lens - glancing over their shoulder.

"It's alright, I'm learning a lot... about fishing." Callum huffed. His knees bent dangerously as the crate slid in his grip. "I swear this thing weighs more than I do..."

The box tipped toward the edge of the dock.

"Put it over here! No, not like that, it’ll fall!" Shew flapped their claws frantically.

"Then you do it yourself!" Callum snapped, wrestling it back upright. His knees almost gave way, but managed.

He huffed, "Don’t start, I already said I’m helping," he added quickly, setting it down with a thud that made the dock bounce.

Shew snorted softly, crouching to shove the crate into place. "You humans are so persistent."

"I carried it, didn’t I?" Callum stood, hands on his hips, though his chest rose and fell like he’d run a mile.

"Good job," Shew said, jabbing at Callum's side with a small tap.

Once the crates were squared away, Shew leaned against one, catching their breath. "Seriously, though. Thanks. I mean it. You didn’t have to tag along here."

Callum lowered his head. "No, it's fine. I wanted to help, really."

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just... I don’t want to be dead weight. Everyone here’s something special... and then there’s me. Just some guy."

Shew studied him for a moment, mismatched gaze steady. "Doesn’t matter what you are. You’ve been nice. That’s worth more than claws or wings."

Callum blinked at them, surprised. "...That’s it?"

"That’s it," Shew said simply, tugging a coil of rope tighter around the post.

The words settled into Callum like warmth after cold rain. He smiled faintly, letting the insecurity slip away, at least for now.

"Come on," Shew said, handing him a fishing rod. "If you’re going to hang around, you might as well learn something useful."

Callum took it, fumbling with the line. "Never fished before. Hope I don’t hook myself."

"Don’t jinx it," Shew muttered. They showed him how to cast, their claws guiding his hands. The line arced out into the waves with a soft plop.

For a while, they sat side by side, the sound of dolphins nearby and the gentle slap of water beneath the dock filling the silence. Callum’s line twitched suddenly, and his eyes lit up.

"Got something!" he said, yanking the rod back. He reeled furiously, muscles straining as the catch broke the surface.

A dripping clump of seaweed slapped onto the dock.

Shew blinked. "...Impressive."

"Hey, that took effort," Callum said, trying not to laugh. He stood, holding the soggy mess.

"Thanks again, really," Shew added after a moment, more serious this time. "I'd be swimming the whole day without your help."

"Oh, yeah, it’s no problem," Callum said, reeling in the rest of his line.

"Easy for you to say," Shew shot back. "You’re ninety percent legs!"

The two shared a laugh, shaking their heads.

Callum brushed off his hands and slung the rod back onto the crate. "I’ll head up, see if anyone else needs help."

Shew gave him a nod, mismatched eyes following as his long-legged stride carried him back toward camp, the dock swaying just slightly in his absence.

Then Shew looked out over the blue.

With a sigh, they whispered, "Always back here," as they waved another line into the water.

* * * The little hut was wedged between two spruce trees, its roof patched with mismatched shingles. Toni trotted up the steps, wringing out the hem of their shirt from the walk over.

He wrapped his knuckles against the doorframe. "Anybody home?"

Something clicked above him as he stepped a foot through the frame. Toni’s brow furrowed.

A second later, a bucket tipped forward, and a cascade of cold milk poured down over his head. It splashed off his shoulders, dripping into his boots, soaking him in seconds.

Wren’s laughter erupted from around the corner, wild and unrestrained, echoing off the trees. "Hah! I gotcha!"

Toni stood frozen, milk dripping from his hair onto the porch. He blinked slowly, then dragged a hand down his face. "Come on! Milk? You had a bucket of milk just waiting up there?"

Wren bounded into view, doubling over and clutching her stomach as she laughed. Her clothes were flecked with sawdust, and her grin was so wide it looked like it might split her face. "Consider yourself... owned."

"You’re a menace," Toni muttered, flicking milk at her with his fingers, grinning.

Wren hopped back to dodge, "Worth it."

Wren led him to sit on the porch rail, brushing shavings of wood off the spot first. The two of them leaned side by side, watching the camp bustle in the distance. Toni wrung out his sleeve with exaggerated grumbles.

"So," Wren said, nudging him with an elbow, "what’s new in the farm disaster zone?"

"Oh, you know," Toni replied. "Silas is aiding our glorious future. We’re going to corner the market on pumpkin pies. We’ll be feeding the entire camp forever!"

Wren threw her head back and barked a laugh. "A pumpkin pie empire? That’s not sustainable."

"It’s a fiasco waiting to happen," Toni corrected, wagging a finger. "Whole camp’s gonna drown in custard. I'm telling you."

Wren cackled, swinging one leg idly over the porch edge. "Two days before someone weaponizes one. I’m calling it now."

"You mean, you?" elbowed Toni.

The air shimmered, and with a burst of purple smoke, Nyla materialized at the foot of the porch. Her tall frame hunched in on itself, with glowing eyes wide with hurt.

"Wren..." her voice trembled.

Wren stood up immediately, grin fading. "What’s wrong?"

"James," Nyla murmured, wringing her hands. "He just... he didn't like my gift..." Her gaze dropped to the ground, eyes watery, expression collapsing into ender-born puppy eyes.

Toni’s chest sank, draping his arms over the railing. "Join the club."

Wren sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "He’s just slow to warm up. Don’t let it get to you."

Nyla’s shoulders curled tighter. The silence pressed in, heavy and awkward, until Toni leaned forward.

"Hey. Remember when we first met you?"

Nyla blinked, hesitant.

Wren’s expression softened as she picked up the thread. "You barely said two words. Scared half the camp just by showing up. Remember?"

Nyla fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve. "...And then Flint scared me."

The memory tugged a small, reluctant smile onto their faces.

"See?" Toni said, nudging his leg against Nyla’s. "Nobody’s at their best on day one."

Nyla’s glow steadied, the blue in her eyes brightening. Sniff, "...Maybe you're right." With a shy nod, she let the smoke swirl around them again, and in an instant, she vanished back toward camp.

Wren exhaled long, shoulders slumping against the porch post. The usual spark in her face dimmed as she rubbed her hands together, staring down at the dirt path. "I don’t know. James... he’s helpful, doesn’t argue, but I’ve got the strangest feeling about him."

Toni tilted his head, one brow raised. "Strange like what? Bad strange?"

"Not bad. Just... off." Wren gestured vaguely, as if trying to catch the word in the air. "Like I’m waiting for him to actually..." She trailed off.

Toni clapped a hand against her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "He’ll come around. Iris says the two humans are opposites anyway. Personally, I think they're just goofs."

Wren glanced at him sidelong. "Surprisingly mature of you to say that..."

"Somebody’s gotta be." Toni shrugged, grinning crookedly. "Besides, we’re the useful ones. They’re just trying to keep up."

That earned a hoot. Wren finally cracked a smile, shaking her head. "I don’t blame them. We are pretty awesome."

Toni hopped down from the railing, shaking off the last of the milk still clinging to his clothes. "Let’s go see what Silas has destroyed so far."

Wren fell into step beside him, smirk tugging at her mouth as the two made their way toward the farm, the afternoon sun already catching the stretch of pumpkin vines ahead. The pumpkin patch, once a tangle of stubborn vines and half-rotten stems, now stretched in tidy rows. Piles of ripe pumpkins sat stacked along the fence, their round silhouettes glowing faintly in the dusk.

Toni collapsed backward into the grass with a dramatic groan. "We did it. We actually did it."

Silas dropped beside him, arms streaked with dirt, breathing heavy. "Barely. I think my spine’s gone."

Wren kicked at a loose vine, brushing her forehead with the back of her wrist. "Worth it, though. Look at this haul."

Toni threw both hands into the air.

"PIES!"

"ARMY!"

"What!?" Toni shot Silas a look, half sitting up.

Silas froze, realizing what slipped out. He slapped a hand to his face and groaned through his fingers. "Forget I said that."

Toni leaned closer, squinting at him with mock suspicion. "Army? What army?"

Wren doubled over laughing, holding her stomach. "Oh, this is going to be good. You two figure that out, cause I’m going home."

Toni crossed their arms, still staring at Silas, who tried, and failed, to look innocent.

Wren waved a hand as she started down the dirt path, still chuckling to themselves. The laughter faded as camp came into view, its fires glowing against the dusk.

She slowed her pace, careful not to let the crunch of gravel or the rustle of their boots give them away, when she noticed two figures ahead. James stood stiffly by the doorway of his hut, while Callum lingered at the step, his shoulders tight. The tone between them wasn’t loud, but it carried in the quiet air.

"Why do you care so much what I do?" Callum’s voice cracked with exhaustion. He shifted his weight, fists clenching at his sides. "I’m just trying to earn my keep."

James leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, expression unreadable. "I don’t care what you do. I just don’t see why you’re always pushing yourself... like you’re afraid of being useless."

Callum’s jaw flexed. "Well, I don’t see why you hunting for us is any different."

"I hunt because I have to," James said evenly. "You work because you need to believe it matters, Cal."

For a long moment, only the frogs filled the silence. Callum’s eyes flickered down, his voice flat when it came. "...Maybe I just want to."

James’s bandaged hand tightened on the doorframe. His gaze didn’t move. "Or maybe you’re just keeping busy."

The words landed like a stone in water, rippling out into the quiet between them. Callum shifted on his feet, then muttered without meeting his eyes, "Goodnight, James."

Wren stood in the shadows of the path, still as stone, watching as Callum turned away from the hut.

Callum kicked a loose stone into the dirt, the pebble skittering off the path as he trudged toward his corner of camp. The long lines of his frame weighed down by something heavier than exhaustion.

Wren hesitated a moment, then pushed off the shadowed path to follow. She caught up easily, their steps quiet until she was just behind him.

"Hey, stranger," Wren said lightly.

Callum flinched, spinning halfway before recognizing her. His face flushed with a quick mix of surprise and embarrassment. "Wren! Ah, I... didn’t know anyone was... "

"Still awake?" Wren added.

He broke off, rubbing the back of his neck. "You heard all that, didn’t you?"

Wren shrugged, not unkindly. "Hard not to."

Callum’s jaw tightened. He let out a sharp breath through his nose. "He just... he doesn’t get it. I’m trying to help. I don’t want to sit around while everyone else is pulling their weight."

Wren tilted their head. "And James doesn’t appreciate that?"

Callum gave a bitter laugh. "Appreciate it? He treats me like I’m wasting my time. Like I’m... chasing some badge of usefulness."

Wren leaned against a fencepost, arms folded, studying him with a calm patience. "Is that why you went to him? Thought he’d have tips?"

"At first, yeah." Callum kicked at another stone, sending it tumbling toward the firelight of the camp. "I figured maybe he could show me something... hunting, tracking, whatever. But then he just started... quizzing me."

"Quizzing?" Wren echoed, one brow raised. "Like what? The right bait to use?" She joked.

Callum turned his back. His voice dropped, quieter, more raw. "No. Things like... whether or not I was helping. Whether it even mattered."

Wren blinked at him, with a blank confusion. "Terrible pop-quiz."

Callum shrugged helplessly, eyes fixed on the dirt at his feet. "Weird or not, he keeps doing it. Makes me feel like I’ve got something to prove every time I open my mouth."

Wren stepped closer, "Callum. You’ve been a great help... Everyone sees it."

His eyes flicked up to hers, "You think so?"

Wren smiled faintly, giving his arm a quick pat. "Oh, screw what James thinks. You’re doing enough."

"I guess, maybe you’re..." Callum’s words cut short as shouting tore through the camp. Both he and Wren snapped their heads toward the sound, where there was a flicker of orange light rising against the atmosphere.

"Fire!"

They bolted toward the noise, boots pounding over the dirt. By the time they reached the clearing, chaos had already taken hold. James’s hut roared with flame, the wooden walls crackling as smoke bled into the camp.

Toni stumbled past with a half-filled bucket, sloshing water onto the side of the blaze.

"Water, not milk!"

Iris was already there, wings flaring as she swung another bucket down hard. "Damn thing’s spreading too fast!" Her red scarf whipped violently as she shouted, goggles slipping crookedly over her eyes. "Shew! Did you get more from the dock?"

Shew scurried forward, claws wrapped around a bucket that looked far too heavy for their slight frame. They dumped it over the porch with a hiss of steam, coughing as smoke caught in their throat. "I-I’m trying! It’s... gods, it’s hot!"

Rain darted between them, face streaked with soot, desperately pulling armfuls of flowers and fabric away from the spreading embers at the edge. "Keep the fire away from the tents! Please!"

Wren and Callum dove into the scramble, grabbing the nearest buckets. Wren shouted over the roar of the blaze, "Where’s James?!"

"I don’t know!" Toni wheezed, tossing their empty bucket aside. "Haven’t seen him since earlier!"

Iris cursed under her breath, glaring into the flames like she could will James to appear. "Figures the bastard’s not here when his house is burning down."

The group redoubled their efforts, water and dirt flying until, finally, the fire began to choke down to smoke and blackened oak. The hut collapsed inward with a final groan of wood, leaving the camp silent except for their ragged breathing.

Wren lowered their bucket slowly, chest heaving. "He’s not here."

The camp was quiet but for the smolder of the hut. Smoke clawed at the back of Callum’s throat. He clutched the empty bucket in his hands so tightly his knuckles whitened. The smell of char was everywhere... on his shirt, in his hair, in his mouth.

And then the ringing started.

At first, it was a faint whine in his ear, like the high note of a bow on glass. But it grew sharper, louder, drowning the world in its needlepoint shriek. Callum staggered a step back, pressing a palm to his temple.

His pulse quickened. The world tilted, sweat beading at the nape of his neck before sliding, hot and stinging, down the edge of his ear. His vision tunneled until all he could see were the collapsing embers of James’s hut, glowing like an open wound.

Why?

Why burn his own house?

Why?

The ringing pressed tighter, until he could barely make out the voices around him. Words blurred, leaving fragments.

"...James..."

"...where is..."

"...fire..."

Callum forced in a breath, ragged and uneven, trying to ground himself. His hands trembled. The bucket slipped from his grip, clattering against the dirt.

Wren broke the silence first, wiping soot from her cheek. "Okay, what the hell just happened? Who lights their own house on fire?"

Iris’s scarf whipped in the smoky wind as she jabbed a finger at the smoldering wreck. "That’s it. This is the last straw. I knew he was bad news from the start. You don’t ignore your neighbors and then torch your own damn walls unless you’ve got something to hide."

Wren rounded on her, still catching her breath. "Iris... stop. You don’t know that. We don’t know anything yet."

"We know enough," she snapped, her goggles hanging crooked on her neck. "He’s untrustworthy. Period."

Rain’s voice trembled, soft but clear. They hugged their soot-smeared arms tight around themselves. "I... I saw him. Before it spread. I thought he was just... walking away. But..." They swallowed, tears cutting clean lines down their ashen face. "He looked back once. Like he wanted it to burn."

The words hit like a strike. The group froze.

Shew blinked behind their brass lens, tail twitching faintly. "You’re sure?"

Rain’s voice cracked. "I'm... pretty sure."

Iris slammed her bucket down, sending water splashing across the dirt. "Enough standing around. We can’t keep letting him skulk around like some ghost. If James thinks he can torch the camp and walk away, he’s dead fucking wrong."

"Iris, please," Shew whispered, clutching their poncho. "Maybe it wasn’t..."

"It was," Iris barked. "He's screwed around long enough."

Toni rubbed at his face, streaking soot across his forehead. But... why now?"

The ringing in Callum’s ears dulled, finally, to a faint hiss. His breathing steadied, but his insides still churned. He stared at the ashes, at the blackened frame that used to be a house, trying to find meaning in it.

James. What are you doing?

I hunt because I have to.

He wanted to speak, to defend him, or condemn him, or something, but the words refused to come. Every thought tangled in his chest until all he could do was stand there, hands limp at his sides.

Wren’s eyes found him again. The embers made their expression unreadable, but the connection was clear. Neither of them knew what to think.

Callum looked away first, while Wren gritted her teeth in worry.