Tobias presses his back against the cold stone wall and holds his breath. The torches hiss and spit, sending orange shadows dancing across the low ceiling. Then, beneath the crackling flame, he catches it — a soft, rhythmic sound, like someone humming a tune just out of reach. It grows closer, and a warm glow appears at the far end of the passage: a lantern, bobbing with slow, deliberate steps. Whoever carries it is small, shorter than Tobias, and wrapped in a coat the color of bark. They haven't noticed him yet. His heart hammers against his ribs as the figure pauses, sets the lantern down, and begins to draw something on the cave floor with a piece of chalk.