Dylan didn't raise his voice when he spoke, yet the sound of the rain seemed to bend around his words all the same. The group had gathered closer beneath the partial shelter of stone and shield, shoulders nearly touching, water dripping steadily from cloaks and hair. The mountain groaned softly beneath them, soil shifting in slow, ominous murmurs that made it clear time was no longer a luxury they possessed.
"Alright," Dylan began, rubbing his hands together as if warming them, though the gesture was more habit than need. His eyes flicked toward the slope, then back to the group. "Here's the thing. We're not climbing down. We're not waiting this out. And we're definitely not trying to walk it like idiots."
A few heads lifted at that. Max frowned, already sensing where this was going, while Ariana leaned in despite herself.
