This night was too quiet.
A dangerous kind of quiet.
The kind that implied the world was holding its breath.
Tian Shen adjusted the straps on his travel pouch for the third time and fidgeted for the fifth.
He was ready now, after the last major disaster.
Kind of.
Almost.
Maybe.
...Okay, not really.
He grumbled, not wanting to run away again.
Elder Su, beside him, simply stepped past him, her robes billowing like a herald of frost.
Drowsy chirped a mournful farewell from a branch.
Little Mei waved from behind.
Feng Yin stood with her arms crossed, with smile on her face but worry on her heart.
"Go now, She's not going to slow down."
She called out.
"I know!"
Tian Shen called back, jogging to catch up with his master, who was already descending the sect's misty stairway like a moving glacier of purpose.
He sighed.
And kept walking.
...
Southward Paths
