They followed the tracks in silence, senses on high alert.
Weapons ready, always within reach—ready to slice, pierce, strike whatever dared to lunge from the shadows.
But they weren't hunting to kill.
These beasts… judging by the sheer number of tracks, they were likely pack creatures. And the trio wasn't there to play suicidal heroes.
They wanted to understand them, observe them, maybe even find their camp—if luck was on their side. Or at least their rally point.
The goal was to avoid the fight. Not charge straight into it.
They also had to move fast. The sun was beating down hard, and the mud was drying before their eyes. The footprints were fading, blending into the cracked ground.
Dylan followed Maggie step for step, focused. Élisa did her best to keep up, but it was getting harder by the second.
The commander was simply untouchable.
