The deeper they ventured into the forest, the heavier the air became. The fog clung to them, thick and suffocating, as if the forest itself was trying to drown them in its ancient magic. Every step was a struggle, not just against the rough terrain, but against the oppressive force that seemed to seep from the ground and trees alike.
Elara led the way, her hand never straying far from the hilt of her sword. The warning of the forest creature still echoed in her mind. *Not all who enter will leave.*
She glanced back at her companions. Kael, ever alert, walked with his sword drawn, his eyes darting between the trees. Seraphina moved silently beside him, her daggers at the ready, her expression grim. Aric looked worse than the rest, his staff glowing faintly as he leaned on it for support. The magic of the forest seemed to be draining him, his usually sharp eyes now dull with exhaustion.