Shapeshift
The sun had painted the sky with gentle hues as the new morning dawned, and Micah, in contrast to his previous unease, was surprisingly content. He marveled at the Heather Eye that he still held in his grasp, its luminescence casting a sense of hope over him. With a cautious and almost reverent touch, he strode away from the camp, drawn to the tranquility of the untouched daybreak.
The absence of anyone else’s presence lent an aura of serenity to the moment. The sunlight kissed the treetops, casting a vibrant brilliance across the landscape. Fortunately, the group was sheltered beneath the cave’s protection, spared from the sun’s full morning blaze.