The descent was treacherous, more so than any of them had anticipated.
The ravine's walls were unstable, crumbled and eroded in ways that the battle hadn't helped. Loose rock slid underfoot, threatening to send them tumbling into the darkness below.
Braka had insisted on coming, despite the wound in his ribs, and Thran had refused to stay behind, so the three of them made their way down together, ropes tied around their waists and anchored to the sturdiest trees they could find at the ravine's edge.
The lower they descended, the darker it became. The canopy above, thick with tangled branches and leaves, blocked most of the fading light, leaving them to navigate by feel and the occasional shaft of weak sunlight that managed to pierce through.
"This is insane," Braka muttered from behind Kael. "We should've just waited for them to crawl out."
