Fenn, the dagger-user, crawled weakly across the ground. His hands glowed faintly green as he whispered trembling healing spells, pressing his palms to whichever teammate was closest.
His lips moved constantly, muttering desperate prayers as much as incantations. His face was streaked with tears, his body shivering with exhaustion.
They had survived the Ironfang Wolves.
Edwin's knees buckled, but he forced himself to remain standing. His lungs burned as he coughed, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the crushed leaves beneath his boots.
"We… we did it," he whispered hoarsely, almost to himself. His voice cracked, trembling between relief and disbelief. "We're still alive…"
For a moment, silence held.
The kind of silence that comes only after chaos.
But the forest was not kind enough to let them rest.
The silence broke.
