The forest bent before them, or so it seemed. Gnarled roots pulled back like wary limbs, and even the birds had learned to quiet down when Titania passed. The sky was choked in thick canopy, but what slivers of moonlight broke through scattered across her cloak like oil over steel.
She moved with the assured pace of someone who had never been caught off-guard in her life and wouldn't tolerate the idea if she ever were. Her boots sank slightly into the damp earth, but she didn't so much as glance at the trail. The sword at her hip clinked against her armor with every step, not for balance, but punctuation. Like the forest ought to listen.
Behind her, Misty staggered under the bulk of Titania's traveling case. The reinforced suitcase, easily the size of a coffin, rocked with every uneven patch of dirt, its brass buckles groaning in protest. Misty huffed, struggling to keep her grip as the heel of her boot skidded on a moss-slick stone.
