Broken, Not Defeated
The brittle snap of twigs echoed sharply through the Elderwyn Forest, splintering the heavy silence of the night. Dry branches cracked under heavy boots, a harsh, ugly sound that traveled farther than it should have under the dark canopy of trees.
A burly figure hauled another across the uneven ground. The one being dragged was a young man—Sam—his body limp, his spirit battered. It was past midnight, the hour when even the predators slept, and only the truly monstrous prowled.
Sam had tried to resist at first, thrashing, kicking, doing anything to break free. But his body had long surpassed its limits during the day. His arms, heavy like stone, barely twitched now. His legs, sore and torn from endless labor, refused to obey. Gritting his teeth, Sam decided to conserve what little strength he had left. Survival first. Escape later.
