The cave was small, but it was safe.
The walls were smooth stone, worn by centuries of water. The floor was dry. Dusty. A thin layer of sand covered everything. Our footsteps left marks.
I sat by the entrance. The stars were fading. Dawn was coming. Pink and orange bled through the trees.
Cade was asleep. His head was on my jacket. His breathing was slow. Steady. The wound on his arm was wrapped in clean cloth. Damon had found a stream. Washed it out. It wasn't perfect. But it would hold.
Nellie was curled in the corner. Her side was bandaged. The wound was shallow. She'd be okay. But she was exhausted. She'd barely spoken since we reached the cave.
Damon sat across from me. His back was against the wall. His dog was curled at his feet. She was licking her paw. The cut was shallow too
