The woods past the Hollow were silent — too silent. No birds. No wind. Just the crunch of their booted feet on dew-drenched leaves. Even that seemed too loud, as if sound had weight now. The way the Hollow still held on to their skin.
Serena spearheaded the procession, boots squelching soppily down the trail. Lucian walked next to her again, and Elias lingered a few steps back, one hand pressed to a shallow weapon wound on his arm. The sun struggled between the trees, soft gold in the leaves, but she didn't feel warm. Not yet.
It was as though everywhere they went, the Hollow dragged a shadow behind them.
"We need to find shelter," Lucian said quietly. He had sounded authoritative next to me, but now he was anxious.
"There's an outpost," Elias said, scanning the woods. "Old one. Once a watch tower during the Border Wars 'bout two miles away."
Serena nodded, not quite listening to them. The wolf in her was restless. It wasn't angry. Not afraid. Just… watching.
