"Huh. How're knives made?"

"Um, mostly stone and bone? Some of the kids Bilas really liked got this stuff called obsidian." 

"Huh. Is there a certain kind of stone?"

"Flint we called it."

"We can find some of that, then. Maybe you and me can look while the others figure out more stuff?"

"Sounds fun."

"I can help them figure out better shelter. Don't wanna get all our stuff rained on."

"Yup. Rain can be fun, though."

"Not when it's getting over everything."

"True, true."

And off to explore, discover, and experiment!

Off to make things pretty!

Off to find a decent knife!

Days pass. The world's as mostly-safe as promised, with most of the hazards keeping to their assigned places. Other bands of kids wander by - some with useful advice for making things, if they've been in the Garden longer - and something resembling a trade network starts assembling itself. The kids get a proper shelter built, figure out grass hats (Malen invents them after getting rained on, which she takes as the sky personally insulting her), experiment with tools and foods. Animals do indeed crumble if killed, but the bones can be useful. Clothes are hard, the reeds are scratchy even when dried and pulled apart - the insides can be twisted into twine and rope, but none of them want it on their skin. Some kid who's been here a whole two years and who had a lot of random plant knowledge when they woke suggests a way of drying and then beating them so the insides are softer, but it's apparently time-consuming. Still, Laashya and Bina get started.

One evening, as the sun dips below the Spooky Woods, Malen is approached by the palest child she or anyone else in the Garden of Sophia has thus seen. 

"Hi! Who're you? Are you new?" Normally only new kids don't have friend-groups.

"I am as old as the world, mortal."

"Huh? Are you a god, then? I thought this was Sophia's Garden."

The girl snarls, revealing fangs. "You wish I was a goddess!"

Fangs are alarming! "Hey! Don't be mean!" she yelps.

The girl proceeds to hoist Malen over her head with one hand. "My kind grow stronger as the prophecy goes unanswered." 

That gets a startled scream!

And now the probably not a girl by certain definitions is booking it for the Spooky Woods. Quite fast.

Angry screaming! Mostly on the vein of "Let me go!"

Malen, it must be said, has a quite loud pair of lungs on her.

"Not until the feast."