The tree branches creaked above Bronte's head. Interlopers, just like he was. Young, just like he was. There was something eerie about this forest, he thought. Something not quite right. A shudder ran through him every time he thought about traversing the twisted, winding root-choked pathways.

At least he wasn't alone out here. Rune's footsteps behind him was a source of comfort, a reminder that should something untoward happen, then the two of them might have a chance of fighting it off. Maybe.

The sound of Rune's voice made Bronte jump.

"Are you sure this is the right way back?"

"Of course. Absolutely sure."

Liar.

"Humm," Rune grunted. "Don't take this the wrong way, Bronte, but I've heard you say that before."

"That time was an accident and you know it."

"Right. And the various other times before that? Listen, we both know this isn't the right way. I don't think we've passed a single tree I recognise. Just…there's no shame in admitting we're lost, that's all."

Bronte stopped, so abruptly that Rune almost crashed into him. Okay, so maybe Rune was right about the lost thing. The problem was that Bronte was fully aware of the fact that his sense of direction was…off by several measures. And he hated having others pointing it out. If he could fix it, then he would.

He threw a glance over his shoulder.

"You wanna take the lead instead? If you're so sure that you can get us back to Felhallow, then you're welcome to try."

Harsh, yes. But still…something wasn't right. The forest seemed too still, too silent. Something was making his mane stand on end and his scales prickle. Where was the birdsong? The sound of movement in the undergrowth? The buzzing and droning of insects?

There was none of that.

Rune stepped up beside him, ears twitching. Bronte wasn't the best at reading body language, but he had a feeling that the Gaoler felt the same way he did. There were burrs stuck in Rune's coat. An odd detail to notice, but that was what Bronte focused on.

"Do you…" he trailed off.

"Think we're being watched?" Rune finished. "No. Maybe? I don't know. There's something funny going on, but…I'm not sure. I haven't seen anyone."

"Maybe we're just imagining it. I mean…there's no way someone would be stalking us, right. Perhaps it's one of the others playing a joke on us. Or our minds are playing tricks on us, making us think we're being stalked?"

Bronte was babbling and they both knew it. He couldn't help it though. Fear did funny things to him. It made him feel like he was back there. In the one place no dragon living in the Southern Icefield should have been. That imposing fortress still haunted his dreams at times.

The branches creaked overhead, and Bronte stared up at them. This wasn't right. This wasn't! Every single nerve in his body was screaming at him to move. To do something. To run. To turn tail and bolt back down the path.

But he couldn't.

"Shade. Shade, Shade, Shade. Shade!"

"Naming the Shade summons it," Rune said, trying to smile. "At least, that's what my parents always told me."

"Right. No offence meant, but I really don't care right now."

"Look, panicking won't get us anywhere. We need to calm down an-"

"And what? Think about things? How is thinking going to help? By the sound of it, you're just as scared, judging by your use of "we"!"

Rune glared at him.

"Of course I'm scared! But like I just said, there's no point in panicking. We need to work out - what's that?"

"What's what?"

Rune frowned, staring ahead. Bronte looked as well. For a moment there was nothing. Nothing except a tree moving along the path towards them.

Wait.

Tree? Moving?

No. No. Nope. Nah.

Not happening. Trees didn't just get up and start walking. Trees didn't grow like that. Knotted together into a vague mockery of limbs. Limbs that moved in a series of jerks, as if pulled by invisible strings. Trunks and bare branches were woven together into what looked like a body, neck and head.

Trailing vines and creepers spilled like a mane over the whole form. The…head (?) contained hollows. Something glowed within them…were those eyes?

He couldn't do this. He couldn't. This was not happening!

Dimly, as though through a haze, Bronte heard Rune shriek. Watched him spin and bolt. Felt himself do the same. It seemed like the wisest course of action.

The branches creaked overhead.