Layford entered the tunnel at a quick pace. The pathway was large enough for two people to walk abreast with extra room to move arms about. It remained wide for what seemed to Layford like miles but what he knew to be only a hundred yards. Time lengthened within his mind with every step he took. His inner clock that was extremely reliable was off balance in the deep mountain. The place hindered a number of their tribal gifts. He could only assume it was because they wouldn’t need them under the protection of the spirits.
Gradually, the tunnel began to narrow where he could fit only when he turned sideways. A few more yards in he had to stop completely and lean against the wall. His breathing was hard as he had pushed himself down the tunnel. His shoulders slumped as frustration coursed through him. The sharp edges of the wall dug into him, scraping at his skin through his clothes.