Their running wasn't like an escape, it was like a breakdown.
No rhythm, no order. Feet pounded on the uneven forest ground, branches passed by them and sometimes scratched their faces and armor, but none of them paused for even a moment to react.
In their current state, they weren't in a position to care about such things. Only one thing mattered, and that was running!
Breaths came up and went down broken, heavy, and uncoordinated, as if their lungs no longer trusted them.
None of them spoke.
Not because they had nothing to say, but because none of them knew where to start.
And behind them, the forest was silent, too silent. No sound of pursuit, no breaking branches, not even a whisper of a presence.
And this was more terrifying than any pursuit, as if nothing had remained there that wanted to follow them, as if… there was no need to follow.
The thing they were afraid of seemed to not care about them at all and didn't consider them significant enough to bother following.
