Camp was broken early that morning, covered in a light mist that moved between the trees like a veil of silence. No one spoke as the bags were packed, tents folded, and the fire's ashes scattered.
They resumed walking, slow and steady, feet crunching over dead leaves. Zetch led with a focused look, Bella stayed between him and Aletha, while Caden brought up the rear, eyes often drifting toward Aletha.
He didn't understand anymore.
Since yesterday, Aletha avoided all contact. Not just touch—she didn't even look at him. And yet, it wasn't their first argument. They'd shouted before, made sarcastic remarks... but never this cold. This distant. Like a stranger.
He stepped a bit closer, saying nothing, just trying to walk beside her.
Aletha turned sharply toward him, as if he had crossed some invisible line. Her gaze was sharp, tense, her brows furrowed.
"Stay behind," she hissed. "I need to breathe without your shadow on me."
Caden stopped, hurt.
"Seriously?" he asked, voice tight. "I'm just walking."
"Then walk somewhere else," she said without looking at him.
Bella turned her head slightly but said nothing. Zetch didn't react either. They were used to it, they thought. Just another fight.
But for Caden, this wasn't like before. There was no anger in his words now. Just confusion—and worry.
He stayed behind, as she wanted. The hours passed. The sunlight grew warmer. The wind picked up.
During a short break near a river, Bella pulled out some dried fruits and offered to share.
"Aletha? Want some?" she asked.
"I'm not hungry," Aletha muttered, not even turning around.
Caden, sitting a few meters away, watched her quietly. She just sat there, staring at the trees. Her face looked paler. Less... alive. He thought he saw her fingers shake—but only for a second.
Something was wrong. Really wrong.
But he didn't dare speak about it.
Not yet.