The river was still there, a few dozen paces to his left, invisible behind a curtain of birches, yet present in the steady roar that served as his guide. Dylan preferred to remain at the edge — neither fully in the forest nor completely out in the open. A middle ground where he could vanish with a single step back, yet still watch what lay beyond the trees.
He walked along the current, following the gentle slope of the land. Sometimes the water appeared between trunks — shifting glints, pale reflections beneath the mist. The banks were too steep in places to climb down, but he mentally noted each possible access — just in case he had to rush toward it.
Julius…
