The eastern ridge gave way to jagged foothills as the sun finally broke through the mist. Violet kept moving—steady, unhurried—because stopping felt like surrender, and she had already surrendered nothing.The air changed here. Thinner. Sharper. The scent of pine faded into something wilder: iron, old blood, and smoke that didn’t come from bonfires. Rogue territory didn’t announce itself with signs. It announced itself with silence that listened back.She crested the last rise and saw it.A camp—not the ragged scatter of tents she’d imagined, but something deliberate. Low stone walls curved in a half-moon against the cliff face. Fires burned low and smokeless. Figures moved between them—some human-shaped, some half-shifted, eyes catching the dawn like polished obsidian.No one rushed her.No one even looked surprised.A woman stepped forward first. Tall, scarred across one cheek, hair cropped short and streaked with gray, she was too young for. Her eyes were the color of storm clouds
最終更新日 : 2026-03-05
