THORNE POINT OF VIEW

The forest grew colder the farther east I traveled.

It was not the kind of cold that simply brushed against the skin, it settled deeper, sinking into bone and breath alike. The wind carried a sharper edge here, slipping through the trees with a quiet persistence that made the night feel watchful. Even the sounds of the forest seemed muted, as though this stretch of land did not welcome noise.

By the time the moon had climbed high above the treetops, the terrain began to ...