Lira didn't talk.
She walked.
That was answer enough.
Ashwing stayed close to his side. Lira paced behind, always on the edge of reach. Not a guard. Not a shadow. Just there.
Lindarion kept his eyes forward.
'She's not here to stop me.'
That should've felt like a win.
It didn't.
It felt like something was being assigned. Not chosen.
He ducked a low branch. Ice cracked underfoot.
They didn't light a torch. No point.
Ashwing's body gave off just enough heat to see shapes. Nothing warm. Just shapes.
His stomach ached again. Not hunger. Something lower than that.
He checked his breath. Still steady. Mana holding.
Void hadn't flickered since the last time. That was good.
He glanced back.
Lira's gaze wasn't on him.
It was on Ashwing.
Her eyes were narrowed. Focused.
She didn't trust the dragon.
He didn't blame her.
'You and me both.'
He looked forward again.
The path wasn't clear, but he remembered the turns.
