Morning came grey and unhelpful.
Lucius had kept watch through the remaining hours of the night, his divine sense running its quiet rotations, returning nothing useful each time.
Whatever had been out there, if anything had been out there, gave him no second indication of itself. By the time the sky began lightening above the valley walls, he had half convinced himself the branch crack had been an animal, the fox a coincidence, and the persistent unease in his chest nothing more than the residue of a long and costly day.
He had almost believed it.
He woke Seraphine at first light. She came awake quickly and without complaint, which told him she hadn't slept as deeply as she looked.
They broke camp in near silence, ate the last of the dried ration standing up, and were back on the road before the sun had properly cleared the eastern hills.
