Jude led them west, crossing the iron‐stake node again, then climbing across the fungal ring and ridge. Each nod aligned them, kept them together. Their symbol map lay safe in their packs, but this path, the silent option beyond, is evolving, expanding with each footfall.
They moved as one. The forest rose up around them: deep green, suffocating, alien themes carried on wings of insects. Light fell fractured through leaves. Shadows formed between steps and moved faster. They didn't speak beyond soft commentary: "Here," "Watch there," "Feel that." Each step a question answered.
By midday they reached the grotto, a place they'd skirted before, a dark dip in the terrain under dangling roots and moss. Mist pooled here, swirling in damp coolness. It seemed too still, too deep, unnaturally silent.
