The forest was eerily silent after the ambush. Arteja marched at the rear of the group, her eyes darting between the shadows cast by the towering trees. Her silver mask, now streaked with blood, reflected the pale light that filtered through the canopy. The air felt heavier, as if the woods themselves were watching them.
"Stay sharp," Corliss said quietly, leading the group with her sword still unsheathed. "We can't assume we're safe yet."
Arteja glanced at Lirael, who walked beside her. Blood seeped through the bandage on her arm, but Lirael seemed unfazed, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.
"Two missions in and we're already getting ambushed. Fun life we've signed up for," Lirael quipped, her tone light but edged with tension.
Arteja didn't reply, her focus on the forest. The attackers had come prepared, as if they knew the wardens' route. Was it a coincidence, or something more deliberate?
As they pressed forward, the noble family they were escorting remained silent, their faces pale and anxious. Lady Varetha, the matriarch, clutched her son tightly, her eyes darting around nervously.
"Why didn't you warn us?" she hissed at Corliss. "You're supposed to protect us! That ambush could've killed us all!"
Corliss didn't slow her pace. "And we handled it. Complaints won't change the fact that we're not out of danger yet."
Lady Varetha opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it, her face twisting with frustration.