Chapter 134: Where the Silence Bites
The sun raced across the sky as if trying to flee the mountains. When the afternoon arrived—pale and devoid of warmth—the trio quickened their pace. The hours slipped by, grating and rough, and they knew that before nightfall, they would have to find shelter. Somewhere discreet, defensible. Somewhere to sleep—or at least, not die.
Trees became scarcer as they climbed. The ground was treacherous, littered with dry roots and deceptive stones, ready to roll beneath their boots. The wind sang between the rocks, sharp as a blade and carrying scents no human could name. Ancient smells. Hungry ones.
"If we don’t find something within the hour, we go back down," said Élisa, scanning the surroundings, her golden eyes narrowed under the harsh light. "I’d rather sleep in mud than wake up with a jaw in my gut."
"Interesting option," Maggie growled, stepping over a fallen trunk. "As long as the mud doesn’t bite."
Dylan walked behind them, the jian strapped across his back, bouncing against his shoulder blades. He said little, focused on staying upright, his legs sore, his eyelids heavy. The morning’s dampness still clung to their skin, and the ascent had quieted them, as if every wasted word cost one drop too many of energy.
But this silence, for once, wasn’t hostile. Just fatigue, and the necessity of moving forward.
Eventually, they came upon a rocky overhang, partially sheltered by a split wall. Withered shrubs masked the opening, and the hollow inside seemed naturally carved, protected on three sides.
Élisa crouched down to inspect the ground, searching for tracks, signs, smells. She gave a small nod. "Not perfect. But not the worst."
Maggie circled around, checking the angles. "I’ve seen worse. Slept in a hollow tree once. There was a snake inside."
"Let me guess... your ex?" Dylan quipped without thinking.
The silence that followed was brief and then broken by a laugh—first a chuckle from Maggie, then Élisa’s amused exhale.