They stopped only when exhaustion threatened to overcome caution.
A small clearing presented itself near a creek that whispered gently through stone, its waters untouched by corruption.
Vines laced the trees overhead, giving the glade an otherworldly luminescence.
Though there were no signs of pursuit, the group remained on edge.
The stranger's appearance had changed everything.
Gregor volunteered for first watch, settling onto a rock with his axe across his lap, eyes sharp in the firelight. His breath came slow and steady, but his knuckles were white.
Luka sat a little apart from the group, tending to Snow's scales.
The baby dragon lay curled on his lap, fast asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling beneath his pearlescent hide.
A few singed patches marked where the transformation had overwhelmed his small frame.
He looked peaceful now, but the glow hadn't faded entirely.
