A branch snapped far in the distance...a damp, thick pop. The kind made from a heavy, booted foot stepping on it.
Eliessán's long hunting knife was already in her hand by the time Sin lifted his bow with hands still cold and trembling from the elf's revelations.
For a moment his head throbbed again, forcing his eyes closed. But he willed them open and the pain away. With immense effort, he forced himself to focus on the here and now, pushing away the terrifying talk of the future, powers he couldn't even imagine, and choices he refused to.
"Straight ahead," Eliessán whispered.
"Let's go."
They crept around the campsite and into the deeper woods, pausing often to listen, moving forward when they heard nothing but the breeze in the drying autumn leaves still clinging to the oaks. S
