Chapter 4: Looking for Signs of Civilization
The sun was gone.
The last orange hues of twilight faded behind the canopy, replaced by a creeping, inky darkness that made every tree look like a monster and every gust of wind feel like a whisper in his ear. Crickets chirped, owls hooted, and somewhere in the distance... something howled again.
Inigo tightened the straps on his vest and glanced up through the leaves. The moon was out—half-covered by clouds, casting just enough light to see vague outlines but not enough to feel safe.
He was still in the middle of nowhere.
Still no village.
No roads.
No signs of life.
Just trees. Trees. More damn trees.
"Okay," he said aloud, voice cracking slightly, "new plan—don't die tonight."
His legs ached. His stomach had been growling for the past hour. He was starting to get cold. The forest at night wasn't just eerie—it was hostile. Everything rustled. Everything moved. Every broken twig felt like the next dire wolf.
He tapped open the Shop.