She stood among the bodies for a long time. The light lay thin across the clearing, touching nothing fully. The wind moved through the trees without sound, carrying only the faint smell of smoke and cooling blood. Some of the dead lay face down in the dirt. Others stared upward. A fly settled on an open mouth and remained. She did not move. Then she turned.

The trees received her without acknowledgment. Their trunks stood close, familiar and indifferent. She walked until the smell of blood fell away behind her. Night came without fire. Darkness pressed close, full of breath and movement. Something broke a branch beyond her sight. Something else answered. She remained still. The fear settled.

There is no one left to follow.

So she does not.

Morning came. She rose. Hunger came. She dug roots from the earth with her hands and ate them where she knelt. She found a nest and broke the eggs against a stone. She drank. She moved.

The river came to her. She knelt. The face in the water was drawn thin, the eyes set deeper, a line of dried blood crossing her cheek. She watched. The face watched back. She drank. She rose.

There is no one left to follow.

So she does not.

The wound came without warning. A stone opened the skin along her foot and blood welled between her toes. She stopped. She tore a strip from her garment and bound it. The cloth darkened. She stood. She walked. The pain remained.

She came to a clearing where grass lay low and unbroken and the trees held back at the edges. In the center stood a single tree, its branches set wide, its leaves dark and full. Fruit hung there. She reached up. The skin was smooth and red. She turned it once in her hand and bit. The flesh broke clean. Juice ran along her fingers. It was sweet. She ate. She left the core where it fell. She moved on.

Time passed. Light came and light left. She learned where the ground held water, what could be eaten, and the shapes of movement at the edge of sight. Once she heard voices. She stopped. The sound faded. She did not follow.

There is no one left to follow.

So she does not.

She had stopped looking behind her. There was nothing there. She stood. Then she moved again.

She walks. She breathes. She does not stop.

There is no one left.

The wind moves through the trees.