"The forest doesn't forgive weakness; even the strongest must bleed to survive its trials." , Fragment from the Codex of the Lost Wardens
The mist clung to every branch, every leaf, every breath. It wrapped around them like a shroud, damp and suffocating, turning the world into a shifting blur of shadows. Each step forward felt like wading through ghosts, the ground soft beneath their boots, slick with moss and roots that threatened to trip the unwary.
The forest was alive, watching. The faint rustle of leaves overhead and the creak of distant branches masked all other sounds. Even the birds were silent.
Leo's shoulder burned with every movement, the wound from last night a constant reminder of how close he had come to collapse. Beneath his skin, the fragment pulsed faintly, steady as a second heartbeat. Each pulse felt like a warning, an echo of hunger waiting for the right moment to strike.
