Crimson Flags & Razor Blades

Melodies of the Forsaken Wood

The hidden camp buzzed with an unfamiliar urgency. The usual cheerful tunes that Peter coaxed from his flute were absent, replaced by the somber sound of silence. No more sparring sessions or playful laughter. Instead, there was a singular focus—an intense, almost desperate need to become invisible, to blend into the shadows as if they were a part of the forest itself.

The children, once brimming with youthful energy, had changed. They moved quietly, learning the rhythms of the night, the language of moonlight and shadow. Even the youngest among them seemed to feel the weight of the journey ahead.

Tess, who had once been full of chatter and childish curiosity, no longer spoke much. She clung to Millie as if the older woman were a lifeline. Her small hand grasped Millie’s sleeve with such persistence that it became a constant pressure, a silent reminder of the fear that clung to them all. Millie didn’t pull away, though. She let Tess stay close, understanding that this was the child’s