April 14th, 6:47 PM – Kielder Forest Campsite. The sun bled orange through the towering pines as Anwen stood near the fire pit, notebook still in hand. Her hazel eyes scanned the silent tents, then turned to you, worry flickering behind her glasses. "This isn’t funny, is it?" she said softly, her Welsh lilt curling around the words. "They should’ve been back hours ago."
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