Dusk halted beside him, tilting his head.


    Traebus ran a hand through his damp hair, frowning at the realization forming in his mind. "If this beach is curving… that means we’re not heading along a straight coastline. Either we’re on a peninsula—or worse, we really are on an island."


    As they continued walking, the beach’s gentle curve suddenly sharpened, bending almost unnaturally. Rounding a cluster of large volcanic rocks, Traebus’ stomach sank as the terrain ahead was revealed.


    The black sand beach ended abruptly at the base of a jagged cliff, sheer and unwelcoming, stretching high into the sky. The wall of dark, weathered stone was covered in patches of thick moss and stubborn vegetation clinging to whatever cracks they could find. Waves crashed against its base, sending up sprays of white foam as if in warning that there was no further path ahead.


    Traebus let out a long breath, dragging a hand down his face. "Well, that complicates things."


    Dusk stepped forward, tilting his head up to scan the towering rock face, his frill twitching as he considered their new obstacle. He sent back an impression through their bond—something halfway between mild curiosity and an I told you so.


    "Don’t even start," Traebus grumbled, crossing his arms. "Because I know for a fact that you never said a word about this, Dusk. Not a single, solitary warning. Not so much as a hey, maybe the beach ends in an impassable cliff, let''s prepare for that. No, instead, here we are, playing guess the geography like a couple of lost idiots."


    Dusk flicked an I told you so impression through their bond, smug as ever.


    Traebus shot him a deadpan look. "Oh, now you’re claiming credit? Convenient. I don’t remember any actual words about a cliff, but sure, let’s pretend you’re a prophet now."


    Dusk snorted softly, completely unbothered by Traebus'' sarcasm, his gaze lingering on the rocky incline as if already making calculations. Traebus sighed, rubbing his temples. There had to be some way forward that didn’t involve an exhausting climb or total retreat.


    Dusk snorted softly, his gaze lingering on the rocky incline as if already making calculations. Traebus sighed, turning his attention to their surroundings. There had to be something—some way forward that didn’t involve an exhausting climb or total retreat.


    His eyes flicked to the cliffside, scanning the rugged surface with a growing sense of determination. "Alright, screw it. We’re not backtracking. I say we carve our way up."


    Dusk took a slow step back, tail flicking in clear skepticism.


    Traebus flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as he focused. His hands tightened into fists, and he took a deep breath, centering himself. The rings on his fingers—the crude, hastily crafted spell foci he’d managed to cobble together—still held faint traces of magical energy. It wasn’t much, but it was something.


    With a low hum, he pressed his palm against the stone, channeling the raw earth magic through the rings. The rock trembled beneath his touch, vibrating as small cracks spread across its surface. Slowly, carefully, he guided the energy, willing the stone to shift and mold into something usable.


    A few moments later, the first step took shape, a flat, sturdy platform emerging from the cliff face. Encouraged, Traebus moved up a step and repeated the process. Another foothold, then another.


    Behind him, Dusk watched warily, taking another step back as the cliff rumbled softly.


    "Relax," Traebus muttered, sweat beading on his brow as he pressed forward. "What’s the worst that could happen?"


    Contrary to Dusk’s obvious concerns, Traebus managed to carve a thin stairwell into the side of the cliff, each step forming with painstaking effort. His makeshift spell rings channeled just enough earth magic to shape the stone, though the strain built with every movement. The process was slow—exhausting—but effective.


    Step by step, they ascended, the narrow staircase winding up the rock face. The climb took its toll, sweat beading on Traebus’ forehead as the magic sapped his already limited energy. About halfway up, his limbs trembled, his breathing grew ragged, and his vision blurred at the edges.


    With one last push of magic, he hollowed out a small alcove in the cliffside, just large enough for the two of them to squeeze inside. The effort sent his head spinning. He barely had the presence of mind to stumble inside before his legs gave out beneath him.


    Dusk followed cautiously, giving the carved-out space a skeptical once-over before settling against the rock. Traebus slumped onto his back, gasping for air. "Okay… let’s just… pretend that was easy."


    Dusk snorted, clearly unconvinced.


    After several minutes of resting, Traebus forced himself upright. He needed fire. It would be a miserable night without one. Groaning, he pushed himself up and staggered back down the stairs he had made, careful not to misstep. At the jungle’s edge, he gathered as much dry wood as he could carry before making the slow, painstaking climb back to the alcove.


    By the time he got back, Dusk had vanished. Traebus barely had time to wonder if the lizard had abandoned him before he reappeared, a pair of freshly caught fish clutched in his jaws. The reptile flicked a mental impression of practicality toward him before dropping the meal at Traebus’ feet.


    "Right. You fish, I build. Fair trade," Traebus muttered as he worked on kindling a small fire. Once the flames flickered to life, the cold, damp night didn’t seem quite so unbearable. They ate in companionable silence, the heat easing some of the ache in Traebus’ muscles.


    As he leaned against the stone wall, exhaustion dragging at his limbs, he exhaled deeply. "Alright. This spot’s not ideal, but it’ll do for the night. Tomorrow, we figure out what’s at the top of this damn cliff."


    Dusk gave a slow blink before curling up near the fire, sending a faint pulse of agreement.


    Traebus closed his eyes. Tomorrow was a problem for future him. Right now, he was too tired to care.


    The morning arrived in a slow, creeping haze of golden light that spilled over the cliffside, casting long shadows into their small alcove. Traebus stirred, groaning as stiff muscles protested his movement. His body felt like it had been dragged across every jagged rock on the continent—and considering the last few days, he wasn’t entirely sure that wasn’t true.


    Something warm pressed against his side. Then another. And another.


    Blearily, he cracked open one eye and was met with the sight of six smaller lizards nestled around him in a pile, their scaled bodies rising and falling in quiet, steady sleep. He blinked at them, his brain struggling to catch up with reality. "Oh, for the love of—" He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "So this is my life now. Just a walking reptilian daycare. Fantastic."


    Dusk stretched beside him, unfazed by the cuddle pile, sending a lazy pulse of amusement through their link.


    Traebus swallowed down his first sarcastic remark, instead shifting carefully to avoid waking the little creatures. But an uneasy thought gnawed at him as he counted them again.


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    "There’s only six of them," he murmured, his tone quieter now. A pause. A frown. "Does that mean the others... didn’t make it?"


    Dusk hesitated, then sent a slow, measured confirmation through their bond.


    Traebus exhaled sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. He had expected as much, but hearing it confirmed still twisted something in his gut. They had barely made it themselves—of course some of the smaller ones wouldn’t have been so lucky.


    He let the thought settle for a moment before shaking his head. "Alright," he muttered. "Let’s get moving. We’ve got a cliff to climb."


    As if sensing the shift in mood, the six smaller lizards stirred, stretching their limbs and blinking up at him with bright, curious eyes. One gave a soft trill, followed by another, then another. The sounds rippled through the group, their tiny heads tilting in unison as if they were greeting him.


    Traebus sighed, rubbing at his temple before smirking slightly. "Good morning to you too, you little trailblazers. Welcome back to the pack."


    A chorus of pleased trills echoed in response, their tails flicking excitedly. Dusk, ever the observer, watched with an air of patient amusement, sending back an approving pulse through their bond.


    "Alright, let’s get this over with. Cliff’s not going to climb itself," Traebus muttered, bracing himself for another long day of exertion.


    Instead of pushing upward immediately, he reconsidered. The alcove they had carved was already in a secure position, halfway up the cliffside. If he expanded it into a proper shelter, they would have a defensible base while they explored. He wasn’t sure how long they would need it, but having a safe fallback point was never a bad idea.


    With a deep breath, he reached out to the stone again, channeling what little magical energy he had left into the cliff face. The walls groaned and shifted as he widened the alcove, pushing deeper into the rock, shaping two connected chambers—one for sleeping and another for storage or work. The exertion made his fingers tremble, his body protesting every movement, but he pressed on, forcing himself to focus.


    Dusk backed up as the rumbling intensified, his frill twitching with unease. He flicked an uncertain thought toward Traebus, a vague warning.


    "Relax, it’s just a little cave expansion. Nothing’s gonna—" A sharp crack split the air as a thin layer of dust rained down from the ceiling. Traebus winced. "Alright, noted. Let’s not overdo it."


    Once the space was stable, he slumped back against the wall, panting. "Okay. That’s our base for now."


    Dusk gave him a long, considering look before sending a cautious thought. Can anything climb up here?


    Traebus frowned at the question, glancing down the cliffside, then up toward the unseen summit. "Good question. I’d like to think no, but..." He gestured vaguely at the prehistoric nightmare of a world they were stuck in. "I also didn’t think giant crocodiles could be that big, so what do I know?"


    Dusk considered this before sending back an impression—not certainty, but a general feeling of fairly safe. There was no immediate danger, at least.


    "Alright, I’ll take ‘probably not dead in my sleep’ as a win," Traebus muttered. "Let’s set up camp properly, then."


    With their base secured, Traebus decided to split their tasks for the day. "Alright, Dusk, you and the little ones handle the fishing. I’ll keep working on the stairs. We’ll meet back here around midday. Sound good?"


    Dusk flicked an affirmative pulse through their bond before nudging the smaller lizards toward the shore. They trilled in excitement, scampering down the stone steps as Dusk followed at a steady pace, his frill twitching as he scanned the water for movement.


    Meanwhile, Traebus turned his focus back to the stairway. He flexed his fingers, taking a slow breath before pressing his palm against the rough stone. His rings pulsed faintly as he channeled what magic he could spare, coaxing the rock to yield beneath his will. The stairs extended further, curling in a narrow ascent up the cliffside. It was painstaking work—each step requiring concentration, careful control to prevent overexertion.


    By midday, his limbs ached, his head pounded, and his stomach rumbled insistently. He sat back, wiping sweat from his brow as he eyed his progress. The stairs were still a ways from reaching the top, but at least they were functional.


    Moments later, the sound of rapid footsteps announced the return of Dusk and his hunting party. The smaller lizards trilled excitedly, dropping their catches near the fire pit as Dusk padded in behind them, his mouth clamped around two particularly large fish.


    Traebus smirked. "Show-off."


    Dusk flicked a look that was equal parts smug and unimpressed before setting the fish down. As Traebus got to work cleaning them, he noticed the smaller lizards all gathered near the fire, their eyes wide and fascinated by the flickering flames. They chirped softly, inching closer before scuttling back, their tails flicking with nervous curiosity.


    "You’d think you’d never seen fire before," Traebus mused, slicing into one of the fish. The lizards trilled in response, clearly still enchanted by the dancing embers.


    Shaking his head with a chuckle, he skewered the fish on sticks and set them over the flames to cook. As the scent of roasting meat filled the air, he leaned back against the stone wall, letting himself enjoy the moment. "Alright, we eat, then we get back to work. Deal?"


    A chorus of eager trills answered him, and for once, Traebus didn’t mind the company.


    Once they had eaten their fill, Traebus dusted his hands off and eyed the little ones. "Alright, you freeloaders, time to earn your keep. Go fetch more kindling for the fire."


    The smaller lizards let out a series of quick trills before scattering down the steps, their tails flicking as they eagerly set off on their new task. He watched them go, shaking his head. "Weirdly obedient. I should probably be more concerned about that."


    Dusk, however, made no move to leave. Instead, the larger lizard stretched, yawned—if lizards could yawn—and promptly flopped down beside the fire, looking utterly content to bask in the heat.


    Traebus arched an eyebrow. "Oh, so you’re taking a break now? Not feeling particularly motivated to help out?"


    Dusk flicked his tail lazily, sending back a distinctly unimpressed impression through their bond.


    Traebus scoffed. "Oh, I see. You’re on ‘supervisor duty.’ My mistake. Forgive me for thinking you’d actually be useful."


    Dusk sent back a series of mental images in response—one of himself heroically diving into the water to catch fish, then another of Traebus dramatically whining on the stairs, clearly exhausted from his own work.


    Traebus scowled. "That is not what I looked like. And you’re missing the part where I’m the one building our way up this stupid cliff."


    Another image—this time of Dusk stretching luxuriously beside the fire, radiating pure satisfaction.


    Traebus sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. Be useless. But if you start snoring, I’m chucking a rock at you."


    With that settled, Traebus turned his attention back to the task ahead. He flexed his fingers, feeling the residual ache from earlier exertion, but there was no time to dwell on it. The cliff still loomed above, and if they wanted a proper vantage point—and possibly a way off this miserable stretch of land—he needed to finish what he started.


    Stepping away from the fire, he placed his palms against the rough stone, channeling magic through the rings once more. The rock groaned in protest as he carved another step into existence, then another. The magic’s pull drained him steadily, but he kept going, willing the staircase to take shape.


    Dusk, ever the picture of relaxation, stretched lazily near the fire, flicking occasional glances at him. The larger lizard sent an idle pulse of mild curiosity through their bond, more out of amusement than actual concern.


    "Yeah, yeah, enjoy your nap while I do all the heavy lifting," Traebus muttered, wiping sweat from his brow as he forced another step into place.


    Dusk’s tail flicked, sending back a teasing impression of supreme comfort.


    "Unbelievable," Traebus huffed. "I swear, if I fall off this thing, you’re carrying me back up."


    The stairwell grew inch by inch, the midday sun casting sharp shadows along the cliff face as he worked. The heat, the exertion, and the slow drain of magic began wearing him down, but by the time the sun had started dipping, the stairs had nearly reached the top.


    Finally, exhausted but triumphant, Traebus stepped back and admired his work. "Almost there. Another push tomorrow and we’ll have a way up."


    Dusk, who had finally decided to stand, stretched and padded over, casting a glance at the stairs before flicking a pulse of approving indifference.


    Traebus rolled his eyes. "Oh, now you care?"


    He was about to continue his snarky comment at the lazy lizard when Dusk’s frills suddenly snapped upright, his body going rigid. At the same moment, a piercing hiss cut through the air from above.


    Every muscle in Traebus’ body tensed as he instinctively started to turn on the stairs, heart hammering against his ribs. Before he could fully react, something large and fast swung down onto the stairwell from above, its powerful limbs gripping the edge of the narrow steps with unnatural precision.


    It was sleek and muscular, its body built for speed and agility. Its scales shimmered in the dimming light, a mottled pattern of deep forest greens and dark browns that blended seamlessly with the jungle canopy above. Its long, sickle-shaped talons scraped against the stone, carving shallow grooves into the freshly shaped steps. A long tail lashed behind it for balance, countering the deadly grace of its movements.


    The head was the worst part—narrow, predatory, with rows of razor-sharp teeth glinting as it pulled back its lips in another hissing snarl. A pair of forward-facing eyes locked onto Traebus, intelligent and calculating. This thing wasn’t just hunting—it was assessing, weighing its prey’s worth.


    Traebus swallowed hard. "Oh, fantastic. A welcoming party."