At first, there’s only the faint stir of air; a sigh that threads through the heavy humidity like the jungle itself is waking up to listen. The vines nearest them twitch, leaves trembling in anticipation, and a soft rustling begins to build around the clearing. It’s not menacing, not quite; more like laughter caught in foliage. A moment later, a lime tumbles from nowhere, bouncing once in the mud beside Flora’s hip. Then another—an orange this time—lands near Kai’s knee with a wet plop. The sound multiplies, gentle thuds and soft splashes as fruit begins to appear in twos and threes, rolling from unseen hands or dropped from the canopy above.
Soon they’re surrounded by little bursts of colour—citrus golds and greens shining bright against the murky earth—as if the jungle itself is amused by their ridiculousness and, for once, willing to play along.
Soon they’re surrounded by little bursts of colour—citrus golds and greens shining bright against the murky earth—as if the jungle itself is amused by their ridiculousness and, for once, willing to play along.
RANDOM EVENT
