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Now that these three know I’m here, what will they do? They chased me through the jungle, but it didn’t feel like they would have attacked me if they caught me. It really seemed like they just wanted to talk. Maybe they want to know where I got all those plums from?

Unless I got it for them, I haven’t seen them eat anything other than guava yet. They’ve been here a few days, I bet they’re starving. Big guys like that probably need to eat a lot.Like Brutus.

Sweet baby pig!I killed Brutus!

I quickly sit up in my hammock, moving Steve to my bag as I remember what caused me to make myself seen in the first place. Brutus, that slimy little crab sucker! He followed me from the plum trees. I’ve never seen him do anything so cunning before. If he had got his tusk into Kingsley, it would have killed him. And that would have been my fault.

My stomach churns as guilt fills me. The thought of something happening to those guys, especially because of something I did… It frightens me. Which surprises me. I don’t know them. Just because I’ve been constantly watching them for days doesn’t mean I know anything about them. So why do I feel so guilty about almost getting Kingsley killed?

Maybe I could make it up to him somehow? Brutus's giant body fills my mind and I remember where my previous chain of thought had gone.He could feed them for a while. Do they have any idea how to break down a boar? I know I had no idea before coming here. And it took dad teaching me plus many, many trials and errors on my own before I became efficient at it. But I was only thirteen when I arrived here.

These guys look much older than that, probably around my age, and Weston looks even older.

I slowly make my way down through the trees. It’s not going to be easy to drag Brutus back to camp, I’ll probably have to butcher him where he is. Am I really going to let them see me again? What do I even say?Oh hey, sorry I led that boar straight to you and almost got you killed, I’m Zee by the way, don’t mind me, I just live here alone, talking to rocks and trees… totally normal.

When I climb out of the tree and onto the deck behind the main hut, I slowly peek around and see the three of them down below. I’m pleasantly surprised to see they’ve already dragged Brutus in, but it’s clear they have no idea what they’re doing with his body. Weston is trying to take off one of his rear legs with a small pocket knife while the other two watch.

That’ll take forever.

Fear, apprehension and cowardice keep me in the shadows as I watch them. They speak too quietly for me to hear. And when, after a few minutes have passed and Weston still hasn’t removed the leg, frustration and the need to do it properly overtakes all my other senses. I take a nervous breath in and slowly step forwards, into the waning sunlight.

Immediately, Kingsley turns his eyes in my direction. When they lock on me, he freezes, as do I. When he doesn’t move, I take another step forward. I watch as he licks his lips, then very quietly, whispers something. Slowly, the other two turn their heads to look up at me.

My gaze bounces between the three of them nervously. “Crap shells, what am I doing?” I whisper to myself, wondering why the hell I’m out here in the open. I start to take a step backwards, but Bower speaks, making me freeze mid-step.

“Hey, Tinkerbell. Did you want to come down and join us?”

Is he making fun of me because of my short, five foot one frame? But when I search his smiling face, I don’t see any cruelty there.

Reminding myself why I was doing this, because it’s my fault they almost got skewered, I release another deep breath and take a few quick steps, leaping off the platform towards a nearby vine.

I hear the guys yell in alarm, but as I swing across the camp, they’re all standing, staring at me with wide eyes. I let my bare feet hit the tree, then grab another vine and swing back the other way, letting go in time to land on the ground in a crouch, ten feet in front of them.

My eyes connect with Weston, since he’s the only one with a weapon. I stand up slowly, my hand inching towards my own knife. He sees what I’m doing and puts his palms out, still holding his knife, in a placating gesture. “I’m just going to wipe my knife off, then I’ll put it away, okay? We’re not going to hurt you.”

My eyes narrow at him as I ask, “Isn’t that something my enemy would say?” Surprise flashes across his face when I speak, but then he smiles, making something shift inside of me. Ilikethe way he looks at me. This is a strange and foreign feeling, but not completely unwelcome.

“I suppose it is,” he replies, slowly wiping his knife on Brutus’s side before flicking it closed. He starts to put it in his pocket but then seems to think better of it and says, “Here.” Tossing it to me. I catch it with a frown. Opening my palm, I glance at it, then back at him in question. “We want you to feel safe, and I have a feeling if you knew I had that, you wouldn't.”

My chest tightens at his words. It doesn’t feel like fear, though, it’s something else.

Not sure what to say to that, I place it in my bag, and when my fingers graze Steve, my eyes flick to Bower. I had heard him complaining that I took my rock back. Maybe we could come to a compromise? I didn’t exactly intend to give him away. I wrap my fingers around him and carefully pull him from my bag and cautiously step towards Bower.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn't move, he stands completely still as I move to stand two feet in front of him. I stare at Steve as I speak. “I know you like Steve, too. But I missed him. Do you think… Do you think we could share him? You get him during the day, and I get him at night?” I ask nervously as I hold it between us in my palms.

When I finally lift my gaze to his, he smiles softly, which increases his attractiveness ten fold. Something tightens in my stomach as he reaches forward and takes Steve from my hands, his rough fingers touching my skin. My breath hitches and I take a step back. Unsure what just happened or why I feel so strange.

“That’s really nice of you, but you can keep him, he obviously means a lot to you, Tink,” he says, passing Steve back.

“It’s Zee,” I tell him, shoving Steve back in my bag nervously.

“Zee?” Kingsley asks, drawing my attention to him. “Is that short for something?”

“Xena, the warrior princess. It’s what my dad called me.” Kingsley exchanges a nervous glance with Weston, who gives his head a tiny shake.

“Well, Zee, it’s nice to officially meet you. I’m—”

“Kingsley,” I say, cutting him off. “You’re Weston,” I say, pointing to him next. “And you’re Bower.”