They followed the Grathiln in a slow curve through the trees.
The path wasn't clear. It wasn't even a path. Just the direction the creature moved in, bending branches aside with long limbs that didn't seem to feel weight or cold.
The ground didn't crunch under its feet. It didn't make noise at all, really. Like the forest had decided it was part of the design.
Lindarion walked behind it. Third in line. Ren led. Lira followed close behind her. Ardan and Meren flanked a bit wider, keeping distance.
Not out of fear. Just practicality. It didn't feel like the kind of thing you wanted brushing against your coat.
'Still not sure if this is an escort or a trap.'
The Grathiln's back was bent, not from pain, just age maybe. Its bark-body shimmered faintly in places where sap caught the morning light. No moss. No rot. But every step looked a thousand years old.
Ren didn't talk. She looked comfortable. Too comfortable.
'Of course she's not surprised by walking trees.'
