Sage sat on the damp forest floor with his palms pressed into the soil as he gasped for air like a drowning man breaking the surface. As he tremblingly put away the notebook into his satchel.
His lungs burned; his throat tasted of copper; and the tremor in his fingers was no longer fear, it was the aftershock of forcing his mind to stay alert while his body screamed for rest.
Above him, the canopy swayed gently, leaves whispering as mist curled around thick trunks. For several long moments, he did nothing but breathe, eyes half-closed and chest rising and falling in a heavy, uneven rhythm, as if he had forgotten how to make his own body function.
When he finally lifted his head, the boss chamber appeared almost serene now that the predator had vanished. Yet, upon closer inspection, the battlefield told a different story. Charred vines lay in blackened coils across the ground.
