الصوت المشترك

Jessie crouched slightly. “Boot. Print. Sarah nodded. “More than one.” Now they saw it—multiple prints, same direction, fresh. Jessie looked into the trees ahead. “They’re close.” Neither spoke for a moment. The bush didn’t feel empty anymore. “We don’t go straight at them,” Jessie said. Sarah shook her head. “No… but we don’t ignore it either.”