The forest seemed to swallow them whole, and George’s panic rose. The night was closing in around him, the dark shapes of trees looming over him like silent giants. He couldn’t hear Thunder anymore. Only the occasional rustle of leaves reminded him that they were still out there.
George stumbled again, tripping over an exposed root, and went down hard. His hands dug into the dirt, his palms stinging from the impact. He lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, his body aching with exhaustion. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t give up.