Evening came faster than expected, like time had decided to skip ahead while they weren't paying attention.
They made camp as the sun set behind the tree line. Fifteen miles covered. No incidents. No attacks. Just walking until their feet hurt and their legs screamed for mercy.
Hunter couldn't shake the feeling that it was too easy. That something was waiting. Watching. Planning terrible things while they congratulated themselves on not dying yet.
Stop being paranoid. Sometimes things just go okay. That's allowed to happen.
Except in his experience, things never just went okay. There was always a catch. Always a disaster waiting around the corner with a smile and a knife.
His spiritual sense stretched out constantly, like invisible fingers searching in the dark. Searching. Finding nothing but that persistent feeling that something was deeply off, something that made his skin crawl with instinctive warning.
