Elliot's POV
The twilight seeps through the dense canopy of twisted trees, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, a pungent reminder of the natural cycle of life and death. I stand at the edge of the witches' village, my breath misting in the cool air as I watch the flickering lights of their encampment. Ally's hand finds mine in the darkness, her grip firm and determined.
"We can't give up now, Elliot," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rustle of leaves. "We've come too far to turn back."
I clench my jaw, frustration simmering beneath the surface. We've tried reasoning with them before- pleading for their help- but the witches are as unmoving as the ancient stones that guard their borders. Yet here stands Ally, unwavering in her resolve.
"Ally, there has to be another way," I murmur, my eyes scanning the perimeter for any sign of movement. "A path we haven't walked yet."