Ren blinked, rubbing her eyes vigorously with the back of her wet hand. She squinted through the grey curtain of rain, trying to clear the distorted image.
But when she looked again, the figure was gone.
The space between the trees was empty. Just rain, mud, and more rain.
"Creepy," Ren whispered, a shiver running down her spine.
She furrowed her brows. 'Did I imagine it?'
Ren shook her head, water droplets flying from her hair.
"I'm definitely seeing things," she dismissed it.
She turned back to the dry sanctuary of the hollow.
"Fire first," Ren decided.
She began scurrying around the dry interior of the hollow, gathering small twigs, flakes of bark, and dried leaves that had blown in before the storm. She piled them into a neat little pyramid in the center of the dirt floor, arranging the kindling with the precision of a chef plating a garnish.
"Perfect," Ren muttered.
She got her silver Zippo lighter from her inventory.
"Let there be lig—"
WHOOSH.
