Ereworn Under The Shadow

The air in the hidey hole did not just grow quiet; it died.

At Barn's warning, Ardwynn stopped cold, her leather-clad foot hovering an inch above the mossy ground. The sudden silence hit her harder than a physical blow. The rhythmic, rasping breathing of her companions seemed louder than normal in the moment.  Her own breath was barely a whisper as her chest tightened in anticipation of what might come next.

Her hands began the intricate motions to pull energy forth - a near automatic reflex.   'That whimpering plea from behind the curtain,'  she thought as she closed her eyes, forcing herself to be still, opening her mind to the natural hum of the world. She pushed out her senses, seeking the prickly tension of a magical snare or the faint, metallic scent of ambush — the telltale signs her mentor had drilled into her.

Ardwynn exhaled slowly, shaking her head. The hidey hole, while crammed full of junk and her companions, felt unnaturally, perfectly empty.  No murderous intent, no hidden spells.  Just… hollow silence and the continued noises from behind the curtain. She still felt a lingering unease — a crawling sensation on the back of her neck — which refused to fade, leaving her with the terrifying suspicion that she had failed to see the danger only because it was designed to be unseen.