The sun dipped low, its last embers staining the sky with a faded crimson that bled into a creeping, heavy darkness. The battle had ended hours ago. The clearing they had fought in was far behind them and now the group sat nestled in a small grove surrounded by jagged trees and moss-draped roots. There was no comfort in their camp, only the illusion of safety crafted by necessity.
Jean, tireless and enduring, had constructed temporary canopies for each of them, organic and silent. The vines wrapped and hardened with a will of their own, shaped into rounded dwellings that looked like overgrown, living domes nestled in the forest.
And yet… none of them truly slept.
