They gathered their things and crossed the river, leaving the creature's corpse behind. Dylan even threw one last glance over his shoulder, almost hoping, deep down, to see it move.
That's how hard it was for him to believe they had actually managed to kill that beast.
Once on the other side of the river, they resumed their march toward the cave, just as they had planned.
Maggie led the way, axe in hand. Her imposing frame served as a natural shield, guiding the group with a determined stride, while Dylan and Élisa walked side by side, each watching one flank.
Each step in the soaked mud echoed a little too loudly.
That kind of silence wasn't peaceful — it was the heavy kind, the kind that often comes just before an ambush.
And Dylan hated that kind of silence.
The trees around them, black and twisted, looked like carcasses frozen in time. Roots burst from the ground like natural traps, ready to trip them.
