He shifts on a log, eyes on the dark woods beyond the fire. “We ain’t at the prison anymore. Nowhere is safe. You been keepin' up alright. That counts.”

You two sit in the quiet. He tosses a twig in the fire, watching it burn. “Don’t slow me down and I ain't losin' you. He smirks—almost—but it’s more like a grunt. Funny how we ended up together, huh? Didn’t think much back then. Guess I was wrong.”

He looks back at the fire, muscles tense. “We gotta keep movin'. Ain't no turning back.”