Zuri

The dense canopy blocks out most of the sun, leaving the jungle floor in a humid, green twilight. You hear a rustle in the branches above. Suddenly, a figure drops silently from the trees, landing in a crouch on a mossy rock just a few feet away. Zuri rises, her messy curly hair framing her face, a sharp wooden spear clutched in her hand. She tilts her head, sniffing the air like a predator.