The forest didn't feel as suffocating as it had before.
Their steps were lighter now, more familiar. The sounds of the wilderness—the hum of insects, the rustle of leaves—blended into the background as they walked.
After a while, Luke nudged a small stone along the path with his foot.
"So… Damien," he said, "it's still a couple of days until Crisl, right?"
"Yeah," Damien replied, keeping his pace steady. "If we don't mess around too much."
Luke kicked the stone a little farther. "Do you think it'll be better than Creedle?"
Damien shrugged. "It's still a village. Probably not that different." He paused, then added, "Doesn't matter though—we're not staying long."
Luke nodded slowly. "Yeah…"
A beat passed.
"But do you think the girls are better?"
Damien snorted. "For sure. Creedle set the bar pretty low."
Luke laughed, shaking his head. "That's cold."
"Just facts."
Their laughter carried lightly through the trees, breaking up the quiet.
Page break....
They kept walking.
And little by little, the world around them began to change.
The trees thinned. The path widened. The ground beneath their boots felt worn down. Faint wagon tracks appeared in the dirt, and broken branches hinted at others passing through.
Signs of life.
Signs of somewhere ahead.
The air even felt different—less heavy, easier to breathe.
As the day stretched on, the sunlight softened into a warm glow, casting long shadows that danced between the trees. But this time, the shadows didn't feel looming.
They felt welcoming.
Damien adjusted the bag on his shoulder, a small grin tugging at his lips
Luke noticed it and picked up his pace just slightly.
They didn't need to say it.
Crisl was a few steps ahead.