Azura's POV
Torin stopped, his heavy boots sinking slightly into the unusually vibrant turf.
He slowly panned his head, his sharp eyes surveying the horizon before narrowing into slits.
"This is the Wraithfen," he announced, his voice dropping into a low, flat register that seemed to sap the artificial warmth right out of the air.
He didn't wait for the rest of the warriors to process the weight of that name.
Instead, he turned his torso sharply toward Isadora, his expression tight with an urgency he rarely allowed people to see.
"Where are you feeling the pull?" he asked quietly, his eyes locking onto hers.
Isadora didn't offer an immediate response. She remained silent, her breathing shallow as her gaze drifted across the deceptively serene landscape.
Her eyes skimmed over the rolling hills, past the unnervingly perfect trees, until they abruptly locked onto a specific coordinate in the distance.
