The wind whispered through the trees as our small group rode out of Bernlit, the shadows of the forest enveloping us like a protective cloak. Each hoofbeat echoed in the silence, a rhythmic cadence that seemed to heighten the tension coiling in my chest.
I glanced over at Gwendolyn, who rode beside me, her face set in a scowl. Despite her brusque demeanor, I could sense the weight of responsibility resting heavily on her shoulders. She was leading us into the unknown, and the burden of our safety lay squarely on her shoulders.
Behind us, Hana and Ailende rode side by side, their forms barely visible in the darkness. Despite their youthful appearances, they exuded an air of quiet confidence, their eyes sharp and alert.
As we ventured deeper into the forest, the trees seemed to close in around us, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers grasping at the night sky. The air grew colder, tinged with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.
