"I can't see shit!" The skinny guy shouted. Panic gripped his heart and not wanting to let go.
The words burst out like a flare in the dark, loud enough that even the palm leaves seemed to flinch. The shrubs around the oasis weren't normal brush. They were the kind that grew like they hated being touched, thick, thorny, and dense enough to swallow silhouettes whole. In the shrubs, everything beyond arm's reach became a smear of shadow and needles.
"Then back off, you don't want the monsters to get the jump on you." Garron raised his spear forward.
He planted his feet like he was bracing against a wave, spear angled toward the black mass of greenery. The tip trembled just slightly, not because he was weak, but because holding a weapon steady while your body begged for water was like asking a dying man to write a signature without shaking.
Fracture rose over everyone's head.
One stack each, just from the stress of having to fight something unknown.
