The rain continued. Fine. Constant. As if the sky didn’t know how to stop.

I sat at the entrance, covered with fabric. The hanging leather barely let anything through. The small fire still burned, barely. Enough not to feel afraid.

Then I heard them.

Footsteps. Slow. Heavy.

I stayed still. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe deep. Just reached out toward the stone and put out the fire.

Total darkness. Trembling heart. The slime… alert.

I didn’t wake the children. They slept deeply. I left them in their world, without fear.

The footsteps… came closer. Very close.

Their voices were low. Their words, strange.

“...delta... clear…” “...cave-like structure, check perimeter…”

I didn’t understand. But the tone… that, I did.

It was watchful. It was searching.

They passed by the entrance. So close. So close…

My body trembled. Not from cold. From knowing the cave… was no longer invisible.

They moved on. They left.

But calm didn’t return.

I spent the rest of the night awake. Hardly blinking. Listening to each raindrop.

What if they came back? What if they found the entrance? What if the children screamed? What if…?

When the sky began to lighten, I saw a light pass between the trees. Far away. It vanished quickly.

I went out. Looked for fruit. Quickly. With careful steps.

I returned. The children were waking. Their eyes swollen. But alive.

I knelt before them. “Today we’ll start looking for a new place,” I said.

None of them answered. They just listened.

“We can’t stay here anymore. This was our home. But it’s no longer safe.”

The oldest looked straight at me. His eyes older than they should’ve been.

I took him to a corner, away from the baby.

“If I don’t come back before dark… eat with them. Don’t leave until then. Okay?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Only if I don’t return.”

“I know.”

“You’ll protect them.”

He nodded. Firm. Brave.

And I left.

Days passed. One moon. Then another.

I traveled farther. More hidden. Sometimes crawling. Sometimes running.

My nose knew where the caves were, the good waters, the sounds of danger. My heart, growing stronger. More determined.

I was looking for a place for us. One that didn’t smell like death. Or fire. Or strange footsteps.

And I found it.

A valley. Surrounded by large stones. With a narrow entrance and a natural cave.

Clean water. Fruit. Silence.

That day, it also rained.

I came back. Soaked. Mud up to my chest. Smelling of forest, sweat, and effort.

When I pushed the plants aside, the children ran. “GOOM!”

One hugged me so tight I almost fell. The other… cried.

Two moons had passed. Two full moons. Waiting.

“I found it,” I said, smiling. “It’s far. But it’s good. Really good. Tomorrow we leave.”

The children looked at each other. Didn’t ask. But something sparkled in their eyes.

I called the oldest aside. “Did you hear anything…?” I asked.

He trembled a bit. Nodded.

“They passed nearby. Spoke strangely. But they didn’t come in. Didn’t see us.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “You were brave. Very brave.”

“Will they come back?”

“Maybe not. Maybe they’ll never see us again.”

He looked at the other two. “So… tomorrow, is it a new home?”

“Yes,” I replied. “One without monsters. One just for us.”

And that night… the rain came again.

But it didn’t find us asleep from fear. It found us with hope… for a new beginning.