Deep in the unmapped granite valleys of New England, a seasoned bushwalker makes camp in a place that feels far too quiet. As the daylight dies, the natural sounds of the scrub are replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence and the impossible, rhythmic click of his own camping gear echoing from the dark crevices. Pinned down by the weight of an unseen, ancient presence, he is about to learn that the oldest parts of the outback don't just watch you — they learn how to mimic you