It feels as though the whole mountain range is holding its breath.
After awhile, the fire inside me starts to gutter.
I keep walking.
The path ahead of me disappears quickly beneath roots, moss, and uneven ground. My throat closes in. The trees crowd tighter together. Brambles catch on my trousers, scratching the leather. Low branches whip my face when I don’t duck in time.
No sign of the dragon. Barely any signs of what time of day it is.
When my breath turns ragged, I stop. My pulse pounds in my ears. I sweep the forest floor with my eyes, searching for something—anything. When I find no signs of life, a bitter taste fills my mouth.
I turn slowly, studying the trees. Have I lost my way? Got turned around in the forest?
There are no signs of a dragon.
I stand still for a few long breaths, surveying the forest around me. It’s quiet. Watching. But I don’t feel the same sense of odd dread I did last time.
Just in case, I poke the monster hiding inside my mind.
Are you planning on sabotaging my journey again?I ask Lorca directly.
At first, they don’t answer. But then, faint laughter rumbles in the darkest corners of my mind. A swish of a tail across my thoughts.
You’re fully capable of it yourself, Phoenix Wildarrow, Lorca purrs gently and retreats once more.
I grit my teeth.
Don’t give in to the provocation.
I close my eyes and draw a deep breath, centering myself.
When I open my eyes, I start walking. This time with more care. I pay attention to the shape of the land. The way the ground slopes. Which shrubs have been disturbed, and which haven’t.
The sun sinks lower.
My stomach begins to ache.
I ignore it all.
I need a sign.
By the time the sky above me dims, the heat of my anger is gone for good. What remains is a dull, grinding exhaustion and the cold realization that I have been walking for hours with no horse, no pack, and no plan for the night.
Shadows around me stretch long and strange between trunks. The mountain air has turned sharp enough to bite my skin.
I have my bow. My blades. A skin of water strapped to my hip. That’s all.
No blanket. No rations. No fur blankets. No fucking sense.
I close my eyes and exhale through my nose.
Great job, Phoenix,I scold myself.
I cast a quick glance around me, searching for somewhere to settle before the full dark falls. The ground is uneven, littered with stones and roots. Not ideal.
A little farther ahead, the land rises towards a ridge of rock jutting out from the earth like a broken tooth. When I approach, I see that beneath it, half-hidden by brush, is a shallow hollow.
Not quite a cave, more an overhang where the stone pushes outward enough to offer some shelter from wind and rain.
