I move farther out, drawn by the light cutting through a cluster of pines. The ground dips slightly, uneven beneath my boots, and I adjust my footing automatically.
“Careful,” I mutter to myself.
The forest feels… thicker here.
Quieter.
I lower the camera slowly, my gaze sweeping the area. The hairs on the back of my neck lift, a prickle of awareness sliding down my spine.
Someone’s watching.
The thought hits fast and sharp.
I turn, scanning behind me.
Nothing.
Just trees. Shadows. Wind.
My jaw tightens. “You’re fine.”
I force a breath out and bring the camera back up, snapping another shot just to prove I can. The click sounds too loud now, breaking the silence in a way that makes my skin tighten.
I don’t like that.
I lower the camera again.
“Okay. That’s enough for today.”
I turn back toward the cabin, my pace a little faster than before. My boots crunch against the dirt and scattered pine needles, the sound grounding but not enough to shake the feeling crawling under my skin.
I don’t run.
I don’t panic.
But I don’t linger either.
The cabin comes into view, solid and familiar, and some of the tension bleeds out of my shoulders. I take the steps two at a time, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The moment the door shuts behind me, I lock it. The click echoes. Too loud. I press my back against the door for a second, listening. Nothing. Just the quiet hum of the mountain.
I push away, annoyed with myself, and drag a hand through my hair. “You wanted isolation, remember?”
No neighbors. No noise. No distractions. No one.
I move through the cabin, flipping on a couple of lights as the sun dips lower outside. The shadows shift, stretching across the floor in long, uneven lines.
I drop onto the couch with a huff, tugging my boots off and kicking them aside. My gaze drifts to the window, to the forest just beyond it.
Dark now. Watching.
I scoff under my breath. “You’re losing it.”
I push up, restless, and head for my bag. I unzip it, pulling out my camera again, flipping through the shots I just took.
Perfect light. Clean composition. No movement. No one.
See?
