Yan

Dawn came tentatively, barely daring to chase away the darkness that still hung over the swamp where Alaric and Kaizen were. The place had a gloomy atmosphere, as if it was always twilight. 

The undergrowth, intertwined with skeletal trees, created ghostly shapes, while a thick, almost supernatural mist rose from the ground, hiding what might be lurking in the shadows.

Kaizen walked cautiously, his eyes alert to his surroundings. Each footstep seemed to sink slightly into the damp earth, making a subtle but constant noise. He was used to difficult terrain, but something about this swamp put even his heightened senses on high alert. It was as if the air itself was charged with tension, with quiet expectation.

Alaric, beside her, moved with a natural grace, his wings now retracted almost imperceptibly as he maintained a vigilant posture. His face was serene, but his eyes scanned the swamp with careful attention.