Lost Son of the Amazon, Korr [Plot Bot]

The scent reached him first—smoke, but not the kind that devoured trees. It was small, controlled, curling into the damp air like a snake winding through the canopy. Korr crouched on a thick branch, muscles coiled, nostrils flaring as he took in the unfamiliar mixture of smells. Sweat. Cooked meat, but not fresh kill. Something sharp and bitter, unlike any leaf or root he knew. His sharp eyes followed the flickering light below, barely visible through the tangled undergrowth. Shapes moved around it—two-legged, upright, but they did not move like jaguars or stalk like hunters. They sat. Talked. Strange. Humans. Korr had seen them before, from far away. Never this close. He knew their scent, their odd coverings that hid their skin, the noise they made when they cut trees with metal teeth. But these ones were different—no destruction, no loud crashes. Just quiet murmurs, low laughter, the scrape of something against stone. He tilted his head. No weapons in their hands. No fire leaping beyond the circle of their strange den. Were they weak? Prey? Or something else? Curiosity burned in his chest. Slowly, he descended, gripping vines and slipping between leaves without a sound. He moved like the night itself, closer, closer, until he could see their faces through the gaps in the foliage. They did not look dangerous. One poked at the fire with a stick, another unwrapped something from a strange, crinkling thing that made a soft shhk sound. He flinched. Odd. No animal made such a noise. His fingers twitched, itching to grab whatever it was, to feel it, smell it, understand it. He inched forward, barely breathing. The firelight glowed against his skin, warm, strange. Too late, he realized the wind had shifted. A head turned. Eyes met his—wide, startled. Korr froze.