The forest had grown eerily quiet by the time we found a cave to camp in.
The steady rustling of leaves and distant monster cries had faded into a silence that felt too heavy.
I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign, but at least the cave offered some safety.
For now.
I sat near the mouth of the cave, the faint moonlight streaming in and casting soft shadows on the rocky walls.
The others were huddled together, deep in discussion, pointing at maps and whispering about our next move.
I didn't bother joining them.
It wasn't like I would have much to add.
Strategy wasn't my thing, and even if it were, they wouldn't take me seriously.
Instead, I focused on my snacks.
A bag of stale crackers and a small packet of dried meat, not exactly gourmet dining, but it kept me busy.
I leaned back against the cool rock, crunching away as I watched the group out of the corner of my eye.
They seemed tense, their voices low but urgent.
Out of habit, I glanced around the cave, noting the faces and making a quick mental headcount.
Steve was there, of course, along with the others.
But someone was missing.
That quiet guy.
I hadn't even realized he'd slipped away.
Not that he was the type to announce his every move, but it was odd to see him gone without anyone noticing.
Curiosity got the better of me, so I dusted the crumbs off my hands and stood up.
The air inside the cave was damp and heavy, the faint sound of dripping water echoing off the walls as I stepped into the shadows.
It didn't take long to find him.
He was near the edge of a small stream that trickled through a clearing just outside the cave.
The moonlight bathed him in a pale glow, highlighting the sharp lines of his face and the rigid set of his shoulders.
He was shirtless, his back turned to me, and I froze when I saw it.
A scar.
It was massive, jagged, and ugly, a twisted patch of discolored skin that ran diagonally across his back, from his right shoulder down to his lower left side.
It wasn't the kind of scar you got from an accident or even a simple battle wound.
No, this looked deliberate, cruel, like someone had carved it into him with intent.
I hesitated, unsure if I should say anything.
But as usual, my mouth moved before my brain could catch up.
"You good?" I asked, my voice tentative.
He didn't respond.
Didn't even flinch.
I tried again, this time forcing some lightness into my tone.
"That's a nasty scar you've got there. What happened?"
Silence.
He grabbed a cloth and dipped it into the stream, his movements slow and methodical as he wiped the sweat and dirt from his skin.
His face was unreadable, his focus entirely on the task at hand, like I wasn't even there.
"Alright, fine," I muttered, crossing my arms. "You don't want to talk about it. Got it. But can you at least tell me your name? You've been ignoring me since we met, and it's getting old."
Still nothing.
I felt a flicker of irritation, but it was quickly swallowed by something darker.
Frustration, maybe.
Or the familiar sting of being dismissed.
My voice dropped.
"You know, you're not the only one with scars. Mine aren't as obvious, sure, but they're there. You don't know what it's like bring ignored, hated, like you don't even exist."
I started to turn away, the weight of my own words hanging heavy in the air.
"But whatever. I'm used to it."
I was saying sky's life, not mine.
I took a step, then another, the sound of my boots crunching against the ground the only noise in the stillness.
"Wait."
The single word stopped me in my tracks.
I turned back, surprised to see him watching me.
His expression was still guarded, but there was something different in his eyes now something softer, almost hesitant.
"You're not as subtle as you think, you know," he said, his voice low and measured. "That little speech of yours, was that supposed to guilt me into talking?"
I blinked, caught off guard.
Then a grin spread across my face, wide and unapologetic.
"Worked, didn't it?"
He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
It was the first time I had seen anything close to an emotion on his face.
"Name's Henry," he said finally, his tone still cautious.
I nodded, my grin softening into something more genuine.
"Nice to meet you, Henry."
"..."
"And if you don't want to talk about the scar it's okay"
That was a lie, I want him to say it...
It is the best he can do, after Ignoring me.
"And as for the scar… I'll tell you."