As we pushed forward through the dense, overgrown wilderness, a heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach. The air was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig setting my nerves on edge. The injury I had sustained in the last battle throbbed with a dull, persistent pain, a constant reminder of just how fragile our situation had become.
The wound hadn't healed properly, despite Nathaniel's best efforts to tend to it. It was a deep gash along my side, and though we had managed to stop the bleeding, the flesh around it remained tender and inflamed.
I could feel the edges of the wound tugging with every step I took, a sharp, biting pain that made it difficult to focus on anything else.
We hadn't received any word from Leora, and a gnawing sense of dread had begun to creep into my thoughts. Had our message reached her? Had she sent help that had yet to arrive?
