[Those poor trees never did anything! It's a much better bet to dice apples (when you're not low-key fearful for your life), though you probably don't want a shovel for that. Lenka's night vision is decent, and for the most part he's been alert, but he can't see much more than Naki can.

(Too quiet, another, hyper-watchful part of him confirms. There's the sigh of wind, but no movement in the underbrush, no stirring of birds, not even the far-off rumblings of human civilization in the early evening. Something else is here, not someone. He tries to shake it off--)

--the rustle is louder than a gunshot in a scoured wasteland, and the shovel is suddenly swung out between them before either can blink. Lenka can't, in fact, remember moving.]

... No. Not just those who wrote the messages. [his voice is low, even] Watch your back.

[The trees provide good cover, but it's impossible to tell where exactly movement is coming from. It's back to being deathly silent.]