The Weight of Weakness
The first light of dawn crept through the ancient trees of Elderwyn Forest, golden rays piercing the misty air like spears. Birds chirped softly, hesitant as if afraid to shatter the fragile peace. The forest, once a witness to the horrors of the night, now struggled to appear normal.
Sam lay slumped at the base of a tree, his breathing shallow. Bruises, blood, and dirt covered his skin in irregular patches, his clothes torn and stained. The torment from the night before had left him broken, his body unwilling to move, his spirit barely holding on. He hadn't had the strength to crawl back to camp, nor the courage to run deeper into the woods. So he had simply collapsed, left to the mercy of time and silence.
In his unconscious state, Sam dreamed.
