Braelyn's POV
The night was colder than usual. From a distance, I could hear the engine humming. I wanted to stay longer, but time was against me.
The road usually buzzed with laughter, Christmas was close and the atmosphere always had a romantic feel. I wasn't bothered by that, my feet sank into the snow as I jogged down the road, then took a turn through the path running in the woods.
The main road was probably safer but it was too far, and the hostel gates closed in ten minutes. I couldn't risk it.
My best bet was this old service lane behind the racing club, the one lined with frost-bitten trees and a single flickering lamp halfway through. My breath fogged in the air, white and fleeting. I clutched my helmet against my side, half-running, half-stumbling over the slick pavement.
