The cart rattled along the narrow, winding path through the dense forest. The towering trees on either side formed an imposing wall of green, their branches entwined above to block most of the fading sunlight. A soft, eerie mist clung to the ground, and the only sounds were the creaking wheels and the occasional snort from the horses.

Bjorn shifted uncomfortably in the back of the cart, resting his axe across his knees. “I swear, this damn forest is never-ending,” he grumbled, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. “How much longer, Askeladd?”

Up front, Askeladd held the reins loosely, his eyes scanning the path ahead. “I’d say a few more hours at least,” he replied with his usual calm. “Try to enjoy the peace while it lasts.”

Thorfinn, walking beside the cart, snorted. “Peace, huh?” he muttered under his breath, keeping his sharp eyes on the thick undergrowth around them.

Canute, seated quietly in the cart, shifted nervously, glancing around at the darkening forest. “It feels… strange here. Like we’re being watched.”

Bjorn rolled his eyes. “Wolves, maybe,” he said, though there was a note of unease in his voice. “But who cares? We’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

Thorfinn cast a quick glance back at the prince, noticing the tension in Canute’s posture. “You’re imagining things,” Thorfinn said flatly, though his hand hovered near his sword, as if he didn’t fully believe his own words.

Askeladd smirked, looking over his shoulder at the group. “Don’t tell me a few trees are enough to make you all nervous,” he said dryly. “It’s just a forest. We’ll be out before you know it.”

“Maybe,” Bjorn muttered, his eyes narrowing at the darkening woods. “Still doesn’t mean I like it.”

The group fell into silence again, the cart creaking forward as the forest seemed to close in tighter, the shadows lengthening across the path.