They're closer today. I could hear the jingle of their armor through the trees, like wind chimes of death. It’s not about outrunning them anymore; it’s about outthinking them. I traced their search pattern in the dirt with a stick. They always check the thickets first, assuming I'll hide. So I don't. I climb. The highest, thinnest branches that don't look like they can hold a squirrel. My arms ache, but the view is better. You can see all the mistakes they're making from up here. I wish I was learning this from a book in a warm room, not like this. Never like this. But I am learning.