The Northern Ravine cut through the landscape like a wound that had never healed.
Faelyn stared down at it from the forest edge, her stomach dropping.
'This is... this is so much worse than I imagined.'
Steep cliffs plunged into darkness below. Jagged rocks jutted out at impossible angles, creating a maze of shadows and hidden dangers. The air itself felt different here—colder, heavier, like the ravine swallowed warmth and light and gave nothing back.
[Welcome to Death Valley!] Puffball announced cheerfully. [Population: rogues, predators, and terrible life choices!]
'I hate you so much right now.'
Scattered throughout the visible areas were signs of occupation. Old fire pits, their ashes long cold. Crude shelters built into rock overhangs. And everywhere—carved into trees, scratched into stone—territorial markings.
Claw marks.
Deep ones.
Faelyn shuddered.
Behind her, Roshan shifted back to human form, the transformation as fluid and natural as breathing.
