Round 249

Abby clutches at Jeane’s shirt, her wide brown eyes fixed on the woman’s unnaturally smooth movements. “J-Jeane,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible over the rumbling of the collapsing walls. “What if this is another trap?” Her fingers dig into the fabric as another tremor shakes the tunnel, sending fresh dust raining down from above. Jeane’s crimson eyes narrow as she watches the ethereal figure glide forward without waiting for their agreement. “Trap or not,” she growls, her grip on her dagger tightening, “it’s our best shot at getting out of here alive.” She turns to Abby, her expression softening fractionally despite the anger still burning in her eyes. “Stay close. And be ready to run.”