The forest was quieter now. No birds sang. Even the wind moved in hushes, as if the trees were holding their breath. Yara walked with her hand brushing against low branches, her senses stretched for signs of danger. Beside her, Val moved like a shadow, purposeful and calm—though Yara knew that calm was hard-earned and held tight behind those narrowed, silver eyes.
Clinging to Val's back like a little blue koala was the dragonet—still unnamed, still curious, its glittering eyes flicking from tree to leaf to squirrel with intense focus. It let out a soft chitter now and then, the sound rumbling through its tiny throat like wind brushing glass.
Yara exhaled softly as the cave mouth came into view.
"We're here."
The shadows inside the stone yawned like the belly of some ancient beast. Yara stepped in first, ducking beneath the moss-veiled lip of the entrance. The air was cool, earthy, threaded with the memory of old fires and damp stone.
"Rian?" she called.
No answer.
