The first hints of dawn filtered softly through the thick canopy, brushing gently against my eyelids. But I didn't immediately open my eyes as I just relished in the soft morning breeze. It had this almost soothing dampness that felt heavenly on my scorched skin, though I couldn't say the same for my muscles. They were aching and sore from the night spent perched among the branches. 

Pushing myself up, I slowly opened my eyes, blinking away the lingering fatigue as I scanned our surroundings. Nearby, Amelia was already awake, leaning against a makeshift spear, eyes narrowed in careful observation of the dense forest below.

Quietly, I shifted into a sitting position, stifling a groan as I stretched my stiff back. “Are you the last watch?” I asked softly, my voice still rough from sleep.

Amelia started slightly at the sound of my voice, her shoulders tensing briefly before she relaxed with a soft exhale. "Yeah," she murmured, though her eyes remained fixed on the shifting shadows beneath us. 

Following her gaze, I nodded slowly, memories of the previous night surfacing vividly. “Did you see those Creatures?”

She hesitated briefly before nodding, her grip tightening on a makeshift spear. “Yes. Though I'm not sure what they were exactly, it was too dark to see anything.”

I shivered involuntarily, recalling the event. “Yeah, I noticed them during my watch, too.”

One by one, the others began to stir, roused by the quiet murmur of conversation. Ella let out a long, theatrical yawn as she stretched.

Henry was the last to sit up, groaning as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“So,” Ella said with mock enthusiasm as she dug through our rations, “who’s ready for another exciting day in paradise?” She held up a strip of dried bug meat with a grin. “Breakfast is served.”

Henry groaned louder, slumping forward. “Bug meat…again? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Owen shrugged and grabbed his portion without complaint.

Benjamin settled beside Amelia, his expression tight with unease. He glanced around the group before asking quietly, “You both saw them clearly? How close did they get?”

“Close enough,” I replied grimly, taking my share of the dried meat. 

Ella and Henry exchanged puzzled glances, the shift in tone not lost on them.

“Wait…what creatures?” Ella asked, a bit curious as she scanned the trees around us.

“I'm not sure,” I said, keeping my voice low. “ But they kinda respempled raptors. But I couldn’t see much in the dark, besides the fact that they were lurking around the tree.”

Ella’s eyes widened slightly as she tightened the straps on her pack. “Why didn’t you wake us?”

“They didn’t stay long,” I said. “It didn’t feel like an immediate threat. But we’d be stupid to assume they won’t be back.”

Emily, who had been quiet until now, looked up toward the canopy, her expression strained. “Do you think they can climb?” she whispered.

Benjamin hesitated, then shook his head slowly. “I don’t think so. Their body structure looked built for speed, not climbing. But…” His eyes swept the trees around us, clearly less certain than he let on.

“Doesn’t matter,” Amelia cut in. “If they’re tracking us, we need to keep moving.”

Henry nodded. “Yeah, let’s not wait around to find out Benjamin was wrong.”

Soon after, we packed up with Amelia taking point, her handgun drawn and steady in her grip, scanning the path ahead with unwavering attention.

But as the hours passed, there was no sign of them. The tightness in our chests began to ebb, replaced by a kind of wary fatigue..

“Okay,” Henry muttered, brushing a vine off his shoulder, “I know we’ve been through hell, but… is it just me, or does this place actually look kind of nice when it’s not trying to kill us?”

Owen crouched beside a moss-covered root, running a hand over its surface before straightening again. “Still is,” he said quietly, his gaze sweeping the treeline.

Ella gave a faint laugh, her voice soft and thoughtful. “It’s incredible, really. The whole ecosystem feels… connected. Like it’s aware of us.”

Henry snorted under his breath, the brief wonder fading from his face. “Yeah, well, I’ll start being impressed once breakfast stops staring back at me.” He nodded toward a fat beetle inching across a leaf, giving it a look somewhere between disgust and suspicion.

As our pace slowed, Benjamin lifted a hand for us to halt. “We’ll need to refill water soon,” he said, nodding toward a thin veil of mist curling from behind a cluster of ferns. “That steam vent up ahead might be our best chance.”

We followed him carefully through the undergrowth, the air growing warmer with each step.

 “Easy,” Benjamin warned, crouching beside the vent. “Some of these pools can be boiling, so use a cloth to test it first.”

We knelt one after another, doing as he said. I dipped a rag into a shallow pool and let it soak. The water was warm, but not scalding. As I filled my container, something flickered at the edge of my vision — just a brief shift in the leaves.

When I turned, there was nothing. Only the hiss of steam and the hum of unseen insects.

Amelia’s voice came low beside me. “Still feel like we’re being watched?”

“Always,” I muttered, keeping my eyes on the trees.

We moved on in silence. The jungle seemed to change with every step — fungi pulsing faintly along the trunks in muted greens and browns, vines hanging like curtains that twitched if brushed, leaves that curled and opened without a single breath of wind.

In the distance, a new sound rose, sharp hoots and rapid, chittering shrieks echoing from tree to tree. 

“Sounds like they’re talking to each other,” Benjamin muttered, scanning the dense canopy.

Ella clutched her journal tighter to her chest, her eyes darting nervously through the treetops. “Do you think they’ve seen us?”

“Let’s just assume everything in this forest knows we’re here,” Amelia muttered.

The silence that followed was tense, but soon enough, Hunger crept in as the hours dragged on. The bug meat from earlier was a fading memory, and every colorful fruit we passed was a cruel tease as no one wanted to risk eating something toxic.

Our pace slowed as exhaustion settled into our bones, the jungle’s humidity making every step feel heavier. Finally, when the suns began to settle, we found a sloped patch of ground nestled between two thick roots. It was shaded and somewhat concealed. But better than anything we'd found up until now.

We dropped our packs and crouched into the shelter, flasks in hand, grateful for even a moment’s rest. I had just closed my eyes when a rustle sounded from somewhere to my right.

I was on my feet in a flash, hand gripping the hilt of my knife. Around me, the others stiffened, eyes wide and searching the brush.

From the undergrowth emerged a massive snail-like creature. Its body rippled as it slid forward on thick, muscular folds of flesh. Its shell gleamed faintly in the filtered light, segmented and ridged, with sharp points protruding from each segment, like natural armor.

The thing was massive, nearly the size of a tire, but luckily, it didn’t seem to care that we were there at all.

“Stay still,” Amelia whispered.

Then another one followed.

And another.

Seven in total, each one slowly moving across the ground and utterly oblivious to us as they slimed their way through our camp like we weren’t even there.

We didn’t breathe.

Not until Benjamin slowly straightened, eyes fixed on one of the creatures.

“If we’re going to eat tonight,” he murmured, “this is our chance.”

Emily grimaced, her voice tight with unease. “Are we seriously thinking about eating that? It’s a snail. A giant snail. That just…feels wrong.”

Benjamin hesitated, the uncertainty clear in his expression. “I’m not thrilled about it either,” he admitted, glancing at the slow-moving creatures. “But unless we want to go hungry, this might be our best shot. If it’s edible, that is.”

Before Emily could argue further, he cautiously stepped forward. We all watched as he approached one of the massive snails, carefully observing it. 

Reaching out, he slowly grasped the edge of the shell.

Then, out of nowhere, the creature reacted. Its soft body recoiled, vanishing into the shell with a sharp snap as the segmented plates slammed shut — nearly catching his fingers in the process.

“Damn,” he hissed, jerking his hand back. “Things like a bear trap.”

“Well, that’s an interesting defense,” Henry muttered as he crouched beside it, inspecting the surface. “Looks like a spiky rock once it’s sealed.”

“No kidding,” I said, eyeing the rough plates. “That’s going to be a pain to crack open.”

“Not necessarily,” Amelia cut in. She stepped into the center of the clearing, kicking away bits of debris. “If we cook it in the shell, we won’t have to crack it at all. It’ll hold the heat and keep everything contained.”

I blinked, then nodded. That’s… actually a great idea. Surprised, I didn’t think of that.

With a plan forming, we got to work. Benjamin and Henry helped lift the massive shell onto a makeshift furnace — a ring of stacked stones we hurriedly assembled. 

Even Emily, despite her reluctance, joined in with gathering twigs and dried leaves for kindling. Around us, the other snails slid away into the brush, their slow movements swallowed by the jungle’s low murmur.

Minutes later, the fire crackled to life. Warm, orange light flickered over our faces as Benjamin eased the shell into the flames. The heat grew, the plates shifting with faint pops until thin wisps of fragrant steam began to curl into the night air.

Henry leaned forward, sniffing exaggeratedly. “Smells... weird. But kind of good?”

“Almost done,” Benjamin said, nudging the edge of the shell with a stick. “It’s loosening up.”

Ella sat cross-legged near the fire, sketchbook already open in her lap. Her pen scratched softly as she recorded the moment. “It’s actually fascinating,” she murmured. “The shell locks shut like armor, leaving not even a single gap for an attack.”

“Adapted or not,” Amelia said with a faint smirk, “it’s dinner now.”

Off to the side, Emily and Owen sat close together, speaking in hushed tones. Emily glanced toward the fire now and then, her brows furrowed but no longer protesting.

Henry wandered over to the fire, slowly circling the now-cooked snail shells like a predator sizing up prey. “Let’s see… too cracked… too small… Ah, you’ll do,” he muttered, stopping in front of one that had kept most of its shape. Steam still curled lazily off its surface.

He crouched down, cautiously reaching out…then yanked his hand back with a sharp hiss. “Still hot. Great.” He blew on his fingers, then grabbed a folded cloth from his bag and wrapped it around his hand for protection.

“Second time’s the charm,” he muttered, gripping the edge of the shell. He tugged once… nothing. A second time, it shifted, but not enough. “Seriously?” he grumbled, bracing a foot against the edge of a rock and pulling harder.

With a strained grunt and a loud squelching sound, the shell popped free, sending Henry stumbling backward with it in his arms.

“Victory,” he breathed dramatically, holding the shell aloft like a war prize.

Straightening, he slung it over his shoulder and turned to the others with a proud grin. “Alright, be honest. How do I look?”

Benjamin looked over from the fire and smirked. “Like a medieval salad bowl.”

Henry puffed out his chest, adjusting the shell into a more dramatic pose. “Exactly the look I was going for.”

Ella didn’t even glance up from her sketchbook as she muttered, “Maybe the wildlife will think you’re one of them and leave the rest of us alone.”

“Alright,” Amelia said, crouching by the fire and examining the steaming shell. “Looks ready. Let’s try to get it open without burning ourselves.”

Benjamin and I stepped in with care, using long sticks to pry apart the now-loosened segments. With some effort, a burst of fragrant steam hissed out as the shell cracked open, revealing a glistening, almost translucent white meat inside. 

“Well,” I said, blinking in surprise, “that looks a hell of a lot better than I expected.”

Benjamin carved into it with ease, separating portions and setting them aside. Then, grabbing one of the cleaned shells, he poured in a bit of the filtered water we’d collected earlier and tossed in a handful of foraged greens and fibrous roots.

“There,” he said, stirring it all together with a stick. “Not exactly gourmet, but it might actually be decent.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow at him, a rare smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I never thought I’d see you cooking alien stew.”

Benjamin chuckled. “Honestly? Neither did I. But I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

I knelt nearby, grabbed another large shell, and placed it firmly on the ground. Cutting into the center of the meat, I tried holding it steady with my fingertips…only to jerk my hand back with a hiss. “Ow! That’s hot.”

“Careful, Atlas,” Ella said.

“Yeah, thanks,” I muttered, shaking out my fingers. I slid the shell under the chunk of meat instead and pressed down, slicing off a thick slab of the white meat. Juices ran down the sides, pooling into the shell’s bottom as I began cutting the meat into smaller cubes.

Henry leaned in beside me, sniffing the air dramatically. “Who knew snails could smell like roasted heaven?”

“Not roasted. Boiled with desperation,” I said dryly.

“Still smells better than bug jerky,” he grinned, clearly unbothered.

By now, the scent had drawn everyone in. Even Emily and Owen, who had kept their distance, drifted closer. Emily knelt near the fire, watching quietly, her eyes following the slow bubbling of the stew in Benjamin’s makeshift pan.

“Think it’s ready?” Henry asked, practically vibrating with anticipation.

Benjamin nodded and began ladling portions into large leaves, passing them around like makeshift bowls. We all took hesitant bites, prepared for the worst.

And then…relief.

“This is actually really good,” Ella murmured, surprised as she took another bite.

“Told you,” Henry beamed. “Snail bisque. Five-star cuisine, jungle edition.”

Emily took a slow bite, paused, then nodded. “It’s... surprisingly edible,” she admitted softly.