Dylan stepped out of the underbrush and froze.
In front of him, a river stretched out — alive, yet peaceful — like a long ribbon of fluid glass sliding over the grey stones.
The water was so clear, it felt like you could just walk right across it; every rock, every pebble beneath the surface looked close enough to grab.
The current whispered softly, light and easy — not threatening at all.
Almost... welcoming.
On the other side, a forest of emerald green stretched out as far as the eye could see, broken up only by glinting reflections.
Above it all, the sky — blindingly blue — seemed to dive straight into the river, like some raw, heart-wrenching painting.
Dylan felt his heartbeat slow, his breath ease — this place... it felt like a hidden paradise, smack in the middle of the leafy hell they'd been slogging through.
And the breeze brushing his face was like a silent promise:
"You can put your weapons down here. Just for a moment."
That's what it felt like.
