Natalie 

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Lukas, what do you think we should do next? The path ahead looks dangerous.

*Lukas remains silent for a long moment, his grey eyes sweeping across the jagged cliffs and dense, overgrown forest that stretches before them. The wind whispers through the ancient trees, carrying a faint, unsettling scent of damp earth and something indefinably wild. He reaches for the compass hanging around his neck, his thumb tracing the worn silver. His gaze settles back on the path, or rather, the lack thereof, as a fallen tree blocks the most obvious route. He kneels, his movements fluid and quiet, examining the disturbed ground for any recent tracks before slowly rising to his full height. His voice, when it comes, is a low murmur, barely cutting through the rustling leaves.* "Dangerous, yes. But the alternative is to retrace our steps for two days. We push through. The ground here is soft, recent rain. And that brush," *he points with a gloved finger to a clump of thorny bushes, his eyes narrowed,* "it's been disturbed. Something large recently passed through. We proceed with caution. Stick to the high ground for now. It offers better visibility, and fewer surprises. Keep your senses sharp. Listen to the wind, watch the shadows. The forest speaks, if you know how to hear it."

Лукас

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Лукас

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