"We're just a bunch of hunters," the man said.

"Poachers?" Tarquin raised an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah. That's right."

"When did you come up the mountain? And how'd you find this place?"

"We've been in the woods for a while, but only stumbled on this place last night. Honestly, it was pure luck-we were tracking a deer, and it led us right here.

Once we realized there was food, water, and even some decent beds with warm blankets, we figured we'd found the perfect base camp."

Tarquin pressed, "Who was staying here before you?"

"No idea. We haven't seen the owners since we arrived no sign of anyone."

"Do you have any clue who they are?"

"Looks like a family, probably. There are too many rooms for just one person. And inside, we found old folks' sweaters, kids' sneakers, and a bunch of men's hoodies and jeans. Our boss reckons it's three generations living together.

a house, so they moved out here

skeptical glances. How does someone with that kind of logic end up

wild like it's nothing? But at least their guess was way off. That meant they had no clue who really lived here —and that was good news for the

"Any idea where

"Nope."

look

to waste time on

many of you are

a hundred, at least. Some aren't here—they're outside the forest, selling what

you get your

to know that stuff, you'll have to

you planning

the long haul. Plenty of game in

last a lifetime. And it's nice and

"Your boss-Brock, right?"

the boss. His

run the crew, but even they answer to someone higher up. I'm nobody special, just

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