They're surrounded by trees. 

The trees are...not normal trees. They're twisty and odd-shaped and look like something out of a modern art painting that's trying a bit too hard to be edgy, and some of them have vines covering the trunks that look a bit more mobile than vines really ought to be. It's dim in the shadow of the leaves and something feels wrong.

In the distance, something rustles in the underbrush. 

Her attention snaps in that direction, and she listens intently for a repeat of the noise. Does it sound like a person?

Not particularly – it has the sort-of-random nature of an animal moving, and then the noise stops. Unclear if it's because the maker of the noise stopped moving, or is just moving more stealthily. 

Good. She tears her dress off and--

--changes, running in the direction of the sound. 

In which case she's going to run straight into the source of the earlier sound. 

The creature looks sort of like a cross between a snake and a greyhound. Soot-black skin, swallowing the dim light, but still giving the impression of scales rather than fur. Its neck is too long and its arrowhead-shaped head is wrong and its yellow pupil-less eyes are glowing, it lunges at her with its long narrow muzzle opening to show rows of needle-sharp, thumb-length teeth–

--and since it can't actually see her, there is nothing to stop it from lunging straight into her open mouth, which slams shut with a crunch. 

Several more of the creatures start to appear from the undergrowth and then slink back into unseen positions. They seem to be smart enough to notice that whatever just happened to their compatriot, it could happen to them as well. 

You know what else can happen to them? Invisible tentacles. 

She assumes that they work on a sufficiently non-eldritch body plan that snapping their necks kills them. 

They're pretty defenceless against invisible tentacles, though a few of them do start to react despite having no way of seeing her – but not fast enough. Snapping their necks does, in fact, work very effectively to kill them. 

Awesome. 

Once all of them are dead or fled, she picks up all the dead ones and carries them back to Wilbur.

"...What are these?" 

"Dunno," she says, changing back to her smaller shape once the creatures are in a reasonable pile and pulling on her dress. "They don't taste great, but they're made of meat and they're not people. --I guess I don't know that for sure but they don't have clothes or paint or anything and they were acting like pack predators, not like a tribe, there's not really any reason to think they would be. Anyway, we can't afford to be picky." 

"You're not wrong," he sighs, and tears a leg off one of the creatures and starts munching it. Doesn't taste great. Oh well. He starts looking around for wood that would make good kindling. 

It's a little harder than expected, because some of the things that look like dead branches on the ground try to attack him when he reaches for them, or run away, but if he's persistent then he'll eventually be able to gather a reasonable pile of wood, both kindling and larger pieces. 

He acquires any scratches from things in the attacking category and is muttering under his breath by the time he has a reasonable campfire setup. With rocks placed around the outside for fire safety. Do any rocklike things attack him. 

These particular rocks, at least, seem inert. Something insect-like but considerably larger than any reason insect bursts out from under a disturbed rock at one point and goes for his face. There are also some creepy white wormlike things with mouths that open and sing in children's voices, but they otherwise leave him alone. 

He falls backwards in startlement when the insect-thing comes at him and hits it out of the air, then squashes it. 

...He's...going to reciprocate the leaving-alone...voices like that should not emerge from worms. 

Once the campfire is appropriately guarded from stray sparks he takes out his flint and steel and attempts to get a fire going. 

He's going to need particularly flammable tinder, the branches won't catch from a spark, but one of them has papery bark that can be peeled off and ought to do the trick.

Papery bark! Papery is a good adjective for tinder to have. 

Once the fire is going, Lucy holds the dead creature Wilbur tore a leg off in the fire. Maybe it will taste better cooked. 

It does not, in fact, particularly taste better cooked. 

However, there are some fat-looking birds rustling around in the tree above them which might be more palatable? 

Surprise tentacle yoink?

Yoinked! 

The bird has disconcerting rows of teeth inside its beak, and its claws have opposable thumbs, but it does not show any indication of being sentient and, while a lot of the apparent plumpness is feathers, it does have a decent amount of flesh in there. 

Neat. She snaps its neck cleanly, pulls the feathers off, and roasts it. 

While it's roasting she inspects the feathers.