Naomi POV
Two of the hunters, Quincy and Cristofo, had recovered and could finally talk. They sat bewildered inside the pale red stone walls of their cell in the red brick jail.
Quincy frowned. “I don’t remember a thing. Honestly. We were in the same forest as YOU hunting the wild pigs, and the next thing I know, we’re here. I had one in my sights. He was waddling so slowly. He wasn’t sick, or lame, or old. He was young, not even an adult.”
Naomi reached out and clasped Quincy’s hands. “Was he trying to trick you?”
She hadn’t even known Quincy and Cristofo were hunting that morning in the same place. She’d been so distracted by Cyran coming home. If she’d fallen into a pit or been crushed by a python, it would have been her fault.
Cristofo shook his head. “No! Pigs are smart but they normally just charge us head-on.”
“Did this wild pig seem like he was being controlled in any way?” Cyran asked. “Or under the influence of anything?”