The forest was alive with the sounds of night—chirping crickets, the occasional rustle of leaves, and the distant hoot of an owl. Yet beneath the surface, an unsettling silence lingered, as though the woods were holding their breath.
Erron led the way with practiced ease, his walking stick tapping against the uneven ground. The stranger followed a few paces behind, his sharp eyes darting around to catch any movement in the shadows.
"So, what's your name, wanderer?" Erron asked over his shoulder.
The stranger hesitated. "Shed."
"Shed, huh? Strong name," Erron said, nodding. "You don't look like the typical traveler, though. What brings you this far out?"
Shed's jaw tightened. "Just passing through."
Erron chuckled, the sound low and gravelly. "Fair enough. Everyone's got their secrets."
The two walked in silence for a while, the tension between them palpable. Despite his gruff demeanor, Erron moved with the precision of someone who knew the forest well. He paused occasionally, scanning the ground or sniffing the air before continuing on.
"You've been out here long?" Shed finally asked, breaking the silence.
"Long enough," Erron replied. "These woods aren't kind to strangers. But they have their beauty if you know where to look."
Shed frowned. "Beauty doesn't keep you alive."
Erron smirked. "True. But it makes the fight worthwhile."
Meanwhile, in Brighthaven, Aurora was having trouble sleeping. She tossed and turned, her mind racing with the strange sense of unease she couldn't shake. Finally, she threw off her blanket and crept to the window.
The moonlit streets of the town were quiet, but her gaze was drawn to the forest in the distance. She couldn't explain it, but something about the woods called to her.
Granny Elle's voice echoed in her mind: "Sometimes, child, the forest whispers things only the sharp of heart can hear."
Aurora pressed her forehead against the cool glass and sighed. What was it about the forest that made her feel so... alive and afraid at the same time?
Back in the woods, Shed and Erron reached a small clearing where a modest campsite had been set up. A smoldering fire pit sat in the center, surrounded by a few logs used as makeshift seats.
"This is as far as I go tonight," Erron said, dropping his satchel onto one of the logs. "You're welcome to stay, or you can keep wandering in the dark. Your choice."
Shed glanced around the clearing, weighing his options. The man seemed trustworthy enough, but trust was a luxury he couldn't afford.
"I'll stay," he finally said, sitting down on one of the logs.
Erron nodded and began rummaging through his satchel. He pulled out a hunk of bread and a flask, offering them to Shed.
"Here. You look like you could use some food."
Shed hesitated before taking the bread. "Thanks."
The two ate in silence, the firelight casting flickering shadows across their faces.
"So, what are you running from?" Erron asked suddenly, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.
Shed stiffened. "What makes you think I'm running?"
Erron shrugged. "You've got that look about you. People don't come through these woods unless they're running from something or chasing after something."
Shed didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the fire.
"Whatever it is, it'll catch up to you eventually," Erron continued, leaning back against a tree. "It always does."
Shed clenched his fists, the stranger's words hitting closer to home than he cared to admit.
As the night wore on, the two men sat in tense silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The fire crackled softly, its warmth a small comfort against the chill of the forest.
Unbeknownst to them, they were not alone.
From the shadows, a pair of eyes watched them intently.