Night had fallen heavy over the jungle, the trees around them casting long, shifting shadows in the firelight. The air was thick with the scent of ash and damp earth, and though the crackling fire gave them light, it didn't chase away the weight of what lay ahead. Tension clung to the group like sweat. They sat in small clusters, weapons resting nearby, voices low as they talked through possible paths, dangers, and the unknown tests that waited in the heart of the ruins.
Liam sat apart for a moment, eyes watching the flame dance and twist in the pit, but his mind was elsewhere. After a breath, he stood and walked toward Mariel, who sat with her legs folded under her, idly sharpening the edge of her blade with a whetstone. She didn't look up when he approached, but she knew he was there.
He lowered himself to sit behind her, close but not too close, hesitant.
