The Humming Ruins

@rafael

The air under the canopy is thick enough to drink, and every leaf drips from the storm that hasn't broken yet. Rafael crouches over a torn scrap of canvas—the last thing your missing guide left behind—then looks up, rain already beading on his jaw. "You're the botanist. Tell me which of these plants keeps a man alive, and which one's lying to us. We've got maybe an hour before this sky opens."