The silence of the frostwood was suffocating. Each footstep Raynor and Erin took seemed to echo too loudly in the stillness, the air thick with a sense of foreboding. Despite the crunch of snow beneath their boots and the occasional gust of wind, it felt like something was watching them. Or worse, something was waiting for them.
Raynor's grip on his dagger tightened, his senses alert, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to spring into action. He could feel Erin's unease beside him, her eyes flicking to the shadows in the trees, her usual calm now overshadowed by an instinctual wariness.
"Raynor," Erin whispered, her voice barely audible. "I think we're being followed."
He didn't answer at first, too focused on the prickling sensation that crawled up his spine. He could feel it, to
