The train creaked slowly along the stone tracks, leaving the shrinking lights of Karak-Loden behind. The heavy breathing of the Stone Drakes mingled with the rhythmic rattling of iron-rimmed wooden wheels, creating the unique soundtrack of subterranean travel. Occasionally, a burst of steam erupted from the giant reptiles' nostrils, followed by a red glint from their eyes glowing in the darkness.
Dayat sat in the corner of the third carriage, his shoulder resting against the hard, cold wooden wall. Beside him, Dola pressed close, her head resting on his shoulder—still in the "pretending to be scared" mode she had started earlier. Her hands gripped Dayat's arm, and she occasionally whispered unintelligible things.
