Suddenly, the trees opened up to reveal a small clearing. Amara’s eyes widened as she took in the scene before her: a dilapidated tent, tattered and weathered, surrounded by scattered crates and metal traps. Her heart dropped.
This wasn’t just any camp—it had the unmistakable, ugly look of a poacher’s hideout. A deep, simmering tension filled the air as she took a step closer, unable to tear her eyes from the ugly remnants of human interference. Every part of her screamed to turn and run, but she couldn’t—not with the elephant beside her, unwavering.