He could perceive every minuscule detail: the damp sheen on the rock, the ancient dust motes dancing in the faint light that filtered in, even the barely audible scuttling of tiny insects deep within the fissures. His hearing, too, was acutely sensitised, picking up the distant, mournful howl of some beast, the incessant drip of water, and the heavy, rhythmic beat of a pulse – not his own, but something outside, something large and approaching.
Something is coming, he thought, a cold thrill running through him. It was not fear, but anticipation. A hunter's instinct.
He moved silently towards the narrow fissure, his body responding with perfect synchronicity to his will. The crushing weight of the valley’s atmosphere, once a suffocating threat, now merely tickled at the edges of his enhan
