They finally managed to leave the clearing and stumbled into the thick patches of trees, panting, exhausted, welcomed by the twisted branches like open arms.
As if this gloomy, nauseating place could offer them, even for just a few seconds, a shred of respite.
Dylan collapsed to his knees behind a hollow trunk, breathing hard, Elisa sliding limply off his shoulder and landing on the ground with a dull thud.
Maggie fell heavily beside them, still clutching her weapon in both hands, like she expected to have to use it at any second.
A fragile silence settled over them.
A real silence this time.
Not the tense wait before the storm, not the fake peace of the clearing.
Just... a black hole of drained adrenaline.
They looked at each other without saying a word.
Dylan's face was dripping with sweat, eyes wide, a thin trail of blood running from his temple — he didn't even know when he'd gotten hurt.
Maggie was trembling slightly, but gritting her teeth not to show it.
