The journey back to New Haven was tense, each member of George's team casting wary glances over their shoulders, as if expecting more ghouls or something even worse to emerge from the shadows. The weight of their discovery in the forest seemed to press down on them, a dark presence they couldn't shake off. George led the way, moving as swiftly and quietly as he could through the thick underbrush, his mind racing with thoughts of the ritual site and the strange symbols they'd found.
By the time they reached the main gates of New Haven, dawn was just beginning to break, casting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange. The beauty of the sunrise felt almost ironic in light of what they had uncovered. As they entered the gates, the tired but vigilant night guards gave them nods of acknowledgement. The sight of George and his team returning safely seemed to ease the tension, if only slightly.
