"This place stinks," Liz muttered, pinching her nose tight.
His reply came flat. "Yeah."
He crouched down, scooping a handful of red sand. The grains slid against his palm, rough and wrong. Not sand. More like fragments of something that had once been alive.
His gaze fixed on the trees. He stepped toward one of the twisted trunks. The bark pulsed faintly, like lungs straining for air. The closer he stood, the thinner the air became, as if the tree was pulling each breath straight out of his mouth.
He raised his blade. One stroke, clean across the bark.
The tree jolted. A hiss spilled out, carrying the stench of rot.
He shifted back, his shadowy cloak trailing after him.
Liz choked once, dragging her sleeve over her mouth to block the stench. "Are you insane? You don't just stab weird breathing trees!"
A corner of his mouth twitched. "Now we know they're alive."
She shot him a glare, still covering her nose. "Congratulations. You almost killed us with tree farts."
