Every tree in this forest looked exactly the same until it wanted to kill you.
Apollo hadn't expected to see so much green after the basin, but here the air grew denser with each step, all the branches and vines greedily chewing the new sunlight.
Dew clung to every leaf, and the path ahead had dissolved into a mud ribbon that doubled back over itself any time you looked away. The only way to not get lost was to follow Cale, whose sense of direction was less an instinct and more a bribe he'd forced out of the earth itself.
At their heels: Nik, whining about his legs "I ran a fever once that hurt less than this!" and managing, despite the complaints, to keep up with Renna, who trailed behind Lyra with the unblinking focus of a wolf that had recently invested in personal growth.
Thorin limped along in the rear, head down and mouth set, as if by ignoring the pain he could bluff the universe into erasing it.
