The forest still held the weight of dusk, silver mist threading between the trees like smoke. The Hydra Knights moved through it in formation, hooves muffled against damp earth, their breath rising in thin clouds that vanished as quickly as they came. No one spoke; the only sounds were the soft creak of leather and the faint chime of bridles.
Levan rode ahead. His cloak trailed faintly behind him. There was no sign of the earlier warmth on his face, only the familiar distant composure he always wore. Yet every few moments, his hand brushed the cuff of his sleeve, as though to reassure himself of something unseen.
He could feel her, almost hearing her breathing. The resonance pulsed faintly against his skin like a quiet rhythm that was not his own. But it steadied him more than any command or oath ever could. He left Harken and the rest to guard the tent, he only brought a few for the patrol.
