Round 101

The trees seemed to close ranks around them as they pressed deeper into the twisted forest. Every rustle of leaves sounded like whispered threats, every shadow seemed to watch their passage with malevolent intent. Merrin felt her skin prickle with unease, the familiar weight of her dagger reassuring in her hand even as she scanned the darkness between the trunks.

"What is this place?" she hissed, more to herself than to Varrika beside her. The dwarf woman’s face was set in a grim mask of concentration, every muscle tense and ready for action despite the exhaustion evident in the set of her shoulders. "It's like the forest itself is alive," Merrin continued, voice barely above a whisper. "Watching us."

Varrika said nothing, but her grip on Merrin’s arm tightened fractionally—enough to acknowledge the words without needing speech. The ground beneath their feet felt unstable, as though the very earth was shifting and settling underfoot with each step they took.