Earlier, before Zarah spun on her heel and bolted back into the cave at the sight of the enemy, her sharp eyes had already caught the shapes pushing out from the treeline.
At first, she thought it was no more than a shadow.
But as the shadows kept breaking apart, one after another, she realized the truth.
These were enemies.
The shapes did not end. They spilled forward like a slow tide, separating from the foliage in clusters until her count slipped beyond her fingers.
A dozen and still growing.
The realization made her stomach tighten, and the sight alone was enough to send a spike of cold urgency down her spine.
She didn't waste another breath lingering.
Her feet pounded against the ground as she rushed toward the cave mouth, every step echoing like a hammer against her ribs.
