The light leant no aid, the shadows of the canyon mirrored each other, and even the stars seemed consumed in the night sky. Through the pitch, Sloane carried herself forward, ever vigilant and brave against the dark that closed around her. She knew the way ahead, there was only one path forward, and she was familiar with it enough to traverse it this late. Should all else fail, her wings would carry her, but here in the silence she wanted to take the time to fully immerse in her surroundings. To embrace the dark, to become it. The only company she shared was that of the crickets that silenced their song as she passed them by. They gave her a sense of respect. A great beast, far bigger a threat than most, for one misplaced hoof could be their demise. Their silence spoke reference, and when their songs picked up again, it was in honor of another moment alive. Fear helps to remind them of the continual beauty of existence, for the shoe has not dropped yet. Sloane had not known she would feel their fear, to realize she was yet a small cricket in the wake of a large, unseeing, unfeeling hoof.

Beyond the veil of darkness, embers shimmered in low light, a tiny bead of gold among a sea of black. Her ears shifted forward and she held her tracks still, eyes locked on the source of light. The sound of crickets grew louder as they didn't sense her motion, yet all she could hear was her heartbeat. Dread closed in around her like that of the canyon's shadows. Who rested ahead? Who disturbed her travels on what was otherwise a perfectly quiet and lonesome evening?

It could have been mere seconds. Minutes, hours before she finally allowed herself forward. She felt aware of every muscle, every tendon, all begging to lock back into place and halt or tense in directive to flee. Yet, she pressed on. Before her, as she finally neared the beads of gold, she found the remnants of a snuffed out campfire. The embers were dark but still held hint that the fire had been fresh, and just as soon killed.

Her heart raced, the pulse reaching her ears and blocking out the sound of the crickets in their song. Sloane felt watched, she felt that she wasn't alone, and it put her incredibly on edge. A shift in the brush to her left and her head swiveled to match it, only to find nothing but dancing shadows. What was out there? What was so eagerly toying with her emotions and leading her to believe she wasn't alone? Why did it wish to remain hidden?