Morning frost crunched beneath Xavier's boots as the group pressed westward through the thickening pine forest. They'd broken camp at dawn, eating a cold breakfast in relative silence before loading their supplies onto their horses. The tension from last night's conversations hung over them like a fog.
Xavier rode at the front, checking the rough map Torval had given them. The resonance compass hung from his belt, its needle swinging periodically but never settling long enough to give them a clear direction. Nolan was out there somewhere, but still too far to pinpoint.
"The forest is getting denser," Xavier observed. "We might need to find another route soon."
