In the dark, silent cavern, Volk lay sprawled against the stone floor, his heavy form motionless in slumber.
The air was dense, the atmosphere almost suffocating as if the entire room held its breath.
A faint tremor began to ripple through the floor, barely noticeable at first, like the distant hum of an approaching storm.
It quivered beneath Volk's thick hide, a subtle vibration that would barely have stirred a mouse, let alone the formidable Watchief.
But the tremor didn't stop there. It grew steadily stronger, pulsing like the beat of a monstrous heart, sending soft waves up his spine, yet Volk barely shifted.
His breathing remained deep and steady, his face buried into the crook of his arm.
The tremor became a low, rumbling sound, almost like the rumble of an earthquake rolling underfoot, growing and growing until it became impossible to ignore.
