Morning sunlight filtered through the skeletal branches, weak and fragmented, casting fractured beams across the forest floor. Frost crunched faintly beneath Taryn and Kah'el's boots as they moved further from the cabin. The forest was quiet, but it wasn't the same oppressive silence as before. This felt different—charged, alive, as if something was waiting just beyond their sight.
Taryn's grip tightened around the hilt of her blade. The tension from the day before still lingered, tangled in her chest, and the silence between her and Kah'el only seemed to amplify it. He walked ahead, his movements deliberate as always, his focus locked on their surroundings. She wanted to say something—anything—but the weight of the claw marks and poisoned arrow they'd found yesterday kept her thoughts twisted in frustration.
