Sleep was a luxury none of us could afford. Even as the fire dimmed, casting faint flickers of light against the rough cave walls, tension hung thick in the air.
Garrick had taken first watch, sitting near the entrance with his arms crossed, eyes locked on the dark forest beyond. Cassandra still hadn't moved from her spot, her expression as unreadable as ever. The others dozed in shifts, uneasy and half-alert.
I leaned against the cool stone, eyes closed but mind awake. Every rustle, every distant howl, every shift of the wind made my fingers twitch toward my weapon.
A few hours passed in uneasy silence before Wallace's quiet voice broke it. "Something's wrong."
I opened my eyes immediately. "What?"
He was sitting up, his face tense. "The forest. Listen."
Everyone stilled. The usual night sounds—chirping insects, rustling leaves, the occasional distant hoot of an owl—were gone.
It was dead silent.
Mira sat up, her expression sharp. "That's not normal."
