She’d set out at dusk, letting the twilight shadows mask her as she crept amongst the trees. The outsider’s camp was a short walk away. Their campfires glowed, the smoke pillaring into the purpled sky. She stalked them, unseen, watching as they joked and laughed, unaware that they’d already branded themselves.
Circling their camp, she took stock. Two of the ten were armed with rifles, only four with machetes. She struck, whirling in like a storm, and before any of them could take a full breath, they were dead at her feet.
Her village was safe again, for the moment.