Ryn's stomach growled again, sharper this time, a hollow ache that mirrored the weariness in his bones. He shifted slightly, glancing at the dark trees lining their path, then down at Mira's black-clad figure beneath him.
"We need food," he muttered, voice rough but firm. "Can't fight Skullrend on empty stomachs."
Mira tilted her head, black eyes glinting up at him. "Fair point." She nodded once, then closed her eyes, her breathing slowing. Shadows unfurled from her feet like living tendrils, slithering through the underbrush.
She listened—her head cocked slightly—tuning into the faint rustles and skitters of the night. "There," she murmured, almost to herself. "Rabbits… squirrels… a couple of rats scurrying near the roots. Oh, and a fat little raccoon waddling by the creek." Her lips twitched into a smirk. "Dinner's served."