A Moment of Respite

The wind howled like a banshee outside, a mournful symphony that did little to soothe the gnawing unease in my gut. We’d finally found it, a fissure in the cliff face, a jagged mouth yawning into darkness. Roric, ever the pragmatist, had declared it our only viable option for shelter, and with a grim nod, had led us inside. The air within was still, heavy with the scent of damp earth and something else, something ancient and forgotten. Lyra, usually a beacon of relentless cheer, had practically scurried in behind us, her bright eyes darting nervously towards the cave’s depths.

“Well, it’s… cozy,” she’d offered, her voice a little too high, a little too bright. She clapped her hands together, the sound echoing unnervingly. “Cozy and… subterranean. Exactly what a weary adventurer craves, wouldn’t you say?”

No one answered. Kael was already moving deeper into the cave, his silhouette swallowed by the gloom. Roric grunted, his gaze fixed on the entrance, as if expecting the storm to follow us inside. Bowen, bless him, offered Lyra a small, reassuring smile. “It’ll keep the worst of it off us, Lyra. That’s what matters.”