The deeper they moved into the forest, the quieter the world became. It was not the kind of silence that meant peace, nor the emptiness that came from absence. It was a listening silence, the kind that suggested the forest itself was aware of them, weighing their presence, deciding whether they belonged.
Elara felt that awareness settle over her skin like a second layer. Even her footsteps seemed to adjust, softening without her conscious effort, as if something inside her had begun to understand the rules of this place before she did. The shift was subtle, but undeniable. The world had not changed. She had.
Rowan walked beside her with that same quiet steadiness she had begun to associate with him. Sometimes he moved slightly ahead, guiding the path without making it obvious. Other times he fell back just enough to let her lead, though she suspected that even then, he was still the one deciding where they went. There was a balance in it, something intentional and unspoken.
