Peaceful Farming (41)

Arpious finished checking the last of the stalls before stepping toward the entrance of the barn. She peered out at the treeline, scanning the shadows between the trees.

There. A flicker of movement. Just for a second.

A low, slow exhale left her lips, forming a ghostly cloud in the air.

Something was waiting. Watching.

And it was hungry.

The air thickened with tension, the stillness pressing in from all sides. Arpious' breath came slow and measured as she narrowed her eyes, tracking the movement in the trees. Shadows wove through the whiteness, drifting between the snow-laden branches, barely more than a whisper against the frozen silence.

She tightened her grip on the handle of her axe.

Elara, still kneeling beside the greenhouse plants, must have sensed the shift in Arpious' stance because she immediately stilled, fingers curling around the wooden edge of a planter. "What is it?" she murmured, barely above a breath.