The forest ahead darkened unnaturally, as if even the moonlight hesitated to touch the twisted canopy. Every step forward felt like plunging deeper into an uneasy dream, the temperature plummeting until frost caked the hem of Rhea's trousers.
They followed a winding trail marked by subtle signs: overturned stones, claw scratches on roots, and tufts of gray fur snagged on low pine branches. Rhea knew, without a word spoken, that Eli had left them. These were breadcrumbs laid specifically for her.
The path dead-ended at a narrow ravine.
Plumes of thick white steam rose from the dark crack below. The drop was shallow but wide, bridged only by a single, frost-slick log stretching across the gap. The muffled gurgle of rushing water echoed up from the black depths.
"Seriously?" Garrin mutter
