The forest grew more ominous as James and his crew followed the massive tracks deeper into the woods. The light from the sun was almost completely choked out by the dense canopy, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the ground. The air grew heavier, and the once gentle rustling of leaves now felt like the whispers of something unseen, watching, waiting.
Sasha walked close to James, her hand never straying far from the hilt of her sword. "These tracks… they're fresh. Whatever made them, it's close," she murmured, her voice tight with tension.
James nodded, his senses on high alert. "Stay sharp. We have no idea what we're walking into."
Emilia moved like a shadow beside them, her bow drawn and ready. Every rustle, every snap of a twig made her eyes dart toward the sound, expecting an attack at any moment. The tension was palpable; each step forward felt like they were descending deeper into a well of darkness.
