The western ridge was nothing like the gentle streams near camp. Here, the forest grew older. Trees rising like pillars of bone, their roots curling through stone. A thin mist clung low to the ground, curling around their feet with every step.
Aranea rubbed her arms. "It feels… weird here."
Elenea walked beside her, bow in hand. "It's the silence. Forests this big shouldn't be this quiet."
"Correct," Darenn said, voice low. "It means something else is claiming the territory."
Beau twirled his daggers, ever the optimist. "Sounds like we're heading the right way."
Leonel side-eyed him. "You say that now. You'll be crying later."
"I'll have you know," Beau said, "I'm perfectly capable of running and crying at the same time."
Aerin snorted. "That's not a brag."
Even Darenn's lips twitched at that. But soon, the air changed again. It was heavier, hotter. The faint scent of decay drifted through the fog.
Zann knelt, pressing his hand to the soil. "Something's been here. Recently."
