Nycto's roar of victory ripped through the jungle, echoing until it drowned in the night.
From the shadows, Tomoe stepped into the firelight, Alex slumped unconscious across her back.
"That was one hell of a scream," she said, lowering him to the ground. "But thanks to it, I found my way back."
Her eyes swept the group. "How's everyone holding up?"
Al-Haitham didn't look up from where he knelt beside Lena. His hands were slick with blood.
"I'm fine… but I need time to treat her."
Tomoe's breath caught when she saw the deep gash in Lena's side. "Gods… that's bad. But she's a fighter. She'll pull through. She has to."
Nycto's jaw tightened. "I failed to protect her."
Tomoe shook her head sharply. "No. I should never have left—"
"Enough," Al-Haitham snapped, cutting them both short. "We all did what we could. Stop talking like she's already gone."
Nycto's gaze shifted to Alex. "And him?"
Tomoe crouched. "Poisoned. Hungry. Thirsty. He's a mess."
Al-Haitham rifled through Lena's pack, muttering curses under his breath. "She packs like a puzzle master… nothing's where it should be."
Tomoe stood. "I'll get food. When Lena wakes, she'll need strength."
Nycto raised an eyebrow. "You're not planning to catch piranhas with your hands torn up, are you?"
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Relax. I was joking—" she yanked a line from the river, three fish wriggling on the hook, "—and it's working."
Al-Haitham frowned. "That's enough. We have plenty."
Nycto crouched at the pit, coaxing flames from damp tinder. Minutes later, smoke curled faint and thin, carrying the promise of warmth.
"Thank the stars," Al-Haitham murmured, checking Lena's pulse. "She's stabilizing."
"That's good to hear," Nycto said, faint relief softening his expression.
But Al-Haitham's relief faded when he noticed Nycto swaying. "Hey—your face is pale. You're bleeding." He shot a sharp look at Tomoe. "Check him. Now."
Tomoe knelt beside Nycto, pressing her hand against his side. She froze.
"What is it?" Al-Haitham demanded.
Tomoe didn't answer. Her lips pressed into a hard line.
Finally, she whispered:
"No…"
Al-Haitham's stomach dropped. "No… what?"
Her eyes met his.