ven bamboo basket on her back. The rough material dug into her shoulders through her thin windbreaker. Sh

shivered in the morning chill. She clutched a thick walking stic

I read that the hunter from the news segment warned about these still being active." In truth, after her rebirth, she

d, giving the s

avine where the sunlight barely penetrated the dense canopy.

scanned the base of a

sh of yellow

amp moss was a cluster of golden chanterel

d, her voice tigh

. Months of studying sustainable harvesting methods flashed through her mind, and she car

ening as she spotted a patch of honey

knife and their quiet breathing. The bottom of Haven's basket w

n

branch breaking under a boo

. She scrambled backward, raisi

e kept the blade low and hidden against the back of her wrist, her pulse hammering in her ears. All those months ste

hes ten yards

tepped

et. But Haven's eyes immediately dropped to his feet. Custom-fitted, It

em. A flicker of genuine surprise cro

th hands, palms open, sh

ce was a deep, resonant baritone that carried easi

Her thumb remained rigid along

ven said, her tone ice-cold. "People

bs into the straps of his high-end tactical backpac

ping to the basket on Haven's back. "Those are beautiful Morchella e

the Latin name. He knew the e

relaxing at the sight of his calm demeanor. "Go

out a sleek, insulated water bottle and held it out

it, Haven stepped sideways,

lies," Haven said fla

s gaze shifted back to Haven, a spark of calculation lighting up his dark eyes. He register

eep incline to his left. "I'll take the western ridg

Haven replied, her voice dev

away, his expensive boots making almost no sound on the wet

da whispered, lowering

the tension drain from her f

the mud aren't nice, Mom," Haven said, turni