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AS TWILIGHT draped its velvety cloak over the land, Maelys and Cregan busied themselves setting up camp for the night. The crackling of twigs and the soft rustle of leaves accompanied their movements, a sharp contrast to the distant howls of wolves that pierced the tranquil air. Each mournful cry sent a shiver down Maelys's spine, stirring unease deep within her. She glanced at Cregan, who was meticulously arranging their supplies, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Cregan," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you think they'll come closer?" The words slipped from her lips like a fragile leaf caught in the wind, trembling with uncertainty.
He paused momentarily, his hands stilling as he registered her fear. For a fleeting instant, a flicker of concern danced in his stormy blue eyes, but it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual stoic demeanor. "Wolves are just wolves, Maelys. They're more afraid of us than we are of them," he replied, his tone flat and dismissive. He returned to his task, focusing intently on securing the tent.
Despite his dismissive words, Maelys could feel the tension in the air. The howls echoed ominously, growing nearer, and she felt the weight of the night settling around them like a suffocating blanket. She tried to suppress the flutter of fear in her chest, but it pulsed insistently, a reminder of the wild world outside their fragile sanctuary.
As they finished setting up camp, Cregan glanced up at her again, his expression inscrutable. He noticed her unease, the way her fingers nervously fidgeted with the hem of her cloak, but the moment passed without acknowledgment. Instead, he resumed his task, arranging the firewood with a practical efficiency that spoke more to his warrior's instincts than to any warmth he might have felt for her plight.
"Let's keep the fire burning bright. It'll keep the wolves at bay," he said, breaking the silence that hung between them. His voice was steady, but it held a distance that felt like a chasm between them. The flickering flames reflected in his eyes, casting shadows that danced along the sharp lines of his face.
"Cregan..." she started again, searching for a way to bridge the gap. But the coldness of his demeanor wrapped around her like the night air, extinguishing her words before they could take flight. With a sigh, she turned her gaze to the darkening woods, trying to find solace in the flickering glow of the campfire.
As the wolves continued their mournful serenade, the night deepened, and Maelys wrapped her arms around herself, seeking warmth from the chill that permeated the air. She felt both protected and isolated in Cregan's presence—he was her shield against the wilderness, yet his distance left her yearning for the connection that felt so tantalizingly close yet utterly unreachable.
As darkness enveloped them, the campfire flickered, casting elongated shadows that danced across the ground. The air grew cool, and Maelys felt the chill seep into her bones. With their modest supplies laid out and the camp established, it was time to settle in for the night. Cregan moved toward the larger tent they had set up for themselves, and Maelys followed closely behind, a swirl of nervous anticipation and lingering fear still twisting in her stomach.
