They traveled until afternoon, when the sun began to dip toward the west.
Visibility in the canyon was dropping. The journey had been oppressive; the path ahead was a hazy blur, and looking back, the entrance to Bonta Canyon was no longer visible.
It was as if they had been swallowed into the belly of a giant beast, losing all sense of direction.
They lit the torches they had prepared and continued on their way.
The group had rested well before entering the canyon. This place was narrow and cramped, completely unsuitable for stopping; it would make them easy targets, like fish in a barrel.
Of course, that was assuming someone dared to try. In a clash, they would soon find out who was the predator and who was the prey.
Suddenly, a sharp bird cry echoed through the air.
Leech snapped his head up to look ahead, raised his right hand, and clenched it into a fist.
"Halt!"
