The trail grew steeper, and the travois felt heavier with every step. Jas’s legs burned, and sweat dripped down their face. They tripped over a root, falling to their knees. Ivy Mae rushed over, her voice gentle. “You okay?”
Jas nodded, frustrated tears welling up. “I’m fine,” they muttered, trying to brush off the dirt.
Roman adjusted the travois to balance the weight better. “We’ll take a break soon,” he said. But breaks didn’t ease the gnawing question in his mind: What if they weren’t strong enough? Not just physically—but mentally?
That night, as they set up camp under a cluster of trees, the air was thick with unspoken fears. Ivy Mae tried to lighten the mood, sketching the stars, but even her strokes seemed heavy.