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Day 6 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The dust has settled. The air feels strangely calm.

Sadbread discovers a river running through a narrow canyon. The water is slow but clear. They kneel beside it, washing their face, taking careful sips.

Callisto hears the low thud of a drone just as it drops another hatchet at her feet. She stares at it for a moment before picking it up. Heavier than the first. 

Lemon climbs to higher ground. From the ridge, she can see far - but no movement, no fires.

Night 6 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The night is still. The stars shine clearly for the first time in days.

Callisto hears the familiar thud of a drone. A small bottle of clean water drops beside her. She opens it slowly and takes careful sips, staring into the dark.

Sadbread receives the same - a bottle wrapped in cloth, dropped right by their camp. They drink in silence, letting the cold water settle.

Lemon curls up beneath a rocky formation. The trident rests nearby, untouched. She sleeps without fear.

Day 7 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The wind returns. The sky is pale and empty.

Lemon sharpens her trident against a flat stone. She’s not planning on hunting - not yet, but she’s ready when they come.

Sadbread walks along the edge of the canyon, trailing a hand along the rock wall. They don’t know where they’re going, only that staying still feels worse. Their body aches, but they keep moving.

Callisto rests beneath a cluster of broken trees. Her hatchets are lined up beside her, blades glinting in the light. She listens for sounds, for footsteps, for anything - but hears nothing.

Night 7 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The cold sets in early. The wind doesn’t howl anymore.

Sadbread stumbles through the dark, the canyon walls all starting to look the same. Every shadow feels familiar. Every path loops back. At some point, they realize they’ve lost track of where they are - and where they are going.

Callisto builds a small shelter beneath the trees, using broken branches and torn fabric. She hears footsteps nearby - slow, and uncertain. When Lemon appears, neither of them speak. Callisto shifts to the side. Lemon steps inside. They sit together in silence.

Day 8 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The arena is silent. No wind. No sky. Only dust

By morning, Callisto and Lemon part ways again. Their truce lasted only one night. No words are exchanged as they go in opposite directions.

Callisto crosses a ridge and spots movement - Sadbread. She turns and runs, panic setting in. But her ankle twists beneath her. She falls hard, gasping, then scrambles to hide.
Luckily it doesn't seem like Sadbread spotted her, they is still busy finding their way out of the ridge.

Lemon finds a stream and crouches low. She tries to spear fish with her trident, slow and patient. The water ripples, but she misses every time.

Night 8 of the Drekkal’Zuun
The moons rise over the arena. The dust has settled. The wind holds its breath.

Sadbread lies curled beneath a ledge, hands wrapped around their chest. They hum a tune, quiet and off-key.

Callisto doesn’t plan it. She stumbles upon Lemon by chance, resting against a rock, her trident laid beside her. For a moment, Callisto hesitates. The night feels too still. Too close.
But she steps forward. No words. No warning. One hand over Lemon’s mouth. One snap. It’s done before either of them realizes.

Fallen Zhaaluuns

@Lemon