The forest was a dark maze of ancient trees and tangled undergrowth, and Damon moved through it with the stealth and grace of a shadow. His footsteps were light, barely making a sound as he weaved through the dense foliage, his eyes trained on the faint glow of the enemy camp in the distance. The rebel soldiers had taken over the streets, making it impossible for him to use the usual routes.
"Aah!" Damon let out a pained groan as he felt a sharp pain in his hands.
As he ventured deeper into the wilderness, he relied on his senses and instincts guide him. He could hear the distant echoes of rebel soldiers' voices, but their words were hushed and indistinct. Damon's acute hearing allowed him to pick up on the subtlest of sounds, even in the midst of the forest.