Crimson and Solstace scanned their surroundings. Crimson’s breath quickened, her chest rising and falling rapidly, echoing loudly in the silent forest.
“I swear, if another raccoon pops out, I’m going to lose it,” Crimson muttered, her voice blending frustration and fear. Crimson shivered slightly under Solstace’s steady gaze, a subtle sense of calm seeping into her despite the visible tension in his clenched jaw.
“What do you have against raccoons, Missy?” Solstace’s voice was a low rumble, resonating with a power that vibrated in the air.
Crimson rolled her eyes at him. A faint smirk flashed across Crimson’s face, a brief respite in their tense vigilance.
A figure emerged from the morning shadows as though materializing from the darkness—a tall man wearing a long dark grey cloak.
