Maximus

We broke camp early. The cold bit deeper as we pushed north, the trees growing closer, darker. The air felt heavier here, like the forest wanted us to turn back.

The rogues walked behind us, muttering under their breath. They thought I couldn’t hear, but I caught enough. Curses. Spirits. Warnings.

Rebecca didn’t speak. She kept her eyes forward, her coat tight. Her silence told me more than words. She felt it too.

By mid-day the pines changed. They grew ...