The trail left by the fleeing elves was easy enough to follow in the darkness. Broken branches, disturbed ground, and the occasional drop of silver blood.
Grim dismounted and led his horse on foot, moving quietly through the undergrowth as he tracked the survivors deeper into the hills.
The terrain grew increasingly rocky and difficult, with steep slopes and narrow ravines that would make any large-scale military movement challenging.
[They're moving fast,] Caius observed. [Fear makes even elves careless.]
"Good. Careless enemies leave better trails."
The path wound through dense forest where ancient trees blocked most of the moonlight, creating a maze of shadows and uncertain footing.
Grim moved silently through the forest.
After an hour of careful tracking, Grim heard the sound of movement ahead.
He tied his horse to a tree and drew Echo, moving forward in a low crouch. The sounds grew louder as he approached. Breaking branches and rustling through dead leaves.
