Liam didn’t rush it. Before committing his weight to the slope, he spread the thick coil of vine rope across his body with deliberate care, looping it diagonally over his shoulder and across his torso so it wouldn’t slide loose once gravity took hold. He tested the tension once, then twice, boots shifting slightly as wet earth crumbled beneath him in small, warning avalanches. The mud was slick—too slick—and he could already feel how eager it was to pull him down faster than he wanted to go.
He lowered himself gradually, knees bent, center of gravity kept low as he pressed one boot into the slope at a ti. His free hand dug into the mud, fingers biting deep despite the cold, wet resistance, using friction rather than force to control the descent. The rope dragged softly behind him, heavy and alive, responding to every inch he gave. He moved like soone negotiating with the terrain rather than fighting it, giving the slope no excuse to take more than he allowed.
When he finally let himself slide, it wasn’t surrender but calculation. His boots carved shallow trenches through the mud as he leaned back slightly, letting controlled montum carry him downward. Every few feet, he tightened his grip with his bare hand, slowing just enough to keep from accelerating into a dangerous drop. Mud splattered against his legs and forearms, soaking into his clothes, but he ignored it, eyes locked on the tree below and the branch Dylan still clung to with stubborn determination.
As the trunk lood closer, Liam adjusted his posture again, angling his descent so he wouldn’t slam directly into it. He dragged his heels harder now, muscles burning as he bled off speed inch by inch. The last thing he needed was a violent impact that might shake the branch loose. With one final controlled slide, he collided with the tree in a heavy but muted thud. The trunk shuddered, the branch shifted slightly beneath Dylan’s grip—but it held.
Liam didn’t waste a second. He peeled the rope off his body and wrapped it around the tree trunk twice, then a third ti for certainty, pulling it taut before tying two firm, locking loops that cinched down against the bark. He tested the anchor with a sharp tug, then another, feeling the resistance bite back reassuringly. Satisfied, he guided the remaining length of rope over the edge of the slope, letting it drop beside Dylan until it hung freely toward the forest floor below.
"You still with us?" Liam asked, glancing sideways toward Dylan as he wiped mud from his hand against his sleeve.
Dylan let out a strained laugh, still clinging to the branch. "Define ’with you.’ Because I’ve had a branch, a prayer, and several bad life choices keeping company for a while now."
Liam snorted softly. "Good. That ans you’re fine. Or at least not dead yet."
"Wow. Comforting," Dylan muttered.
"Grab the rope," Liam said, his tone firm now. "Slow and steady. I’ve got it anchored."
Dylan eyed the vine rope suspiciously, shifting his grip on the branch just enough to glance at it. "You’re sure that thing’s not gonna snap? I’ve already done enough hanging for one day."
"It held my weight while sliding," Liam replied flatly. "It’ll hold yours too. Stop whining and move."
Dylan stared at him for a mont, clearly debating whether to trust the rope or continue trusting the increasingly unhappy branch. Finally, he sighed. "If I die, I’m haunting you."
"Get in line," Liam said.
With careful movents, Dylan transferred his grip from the branch to the rope, easing himself down inch by inch. Liam kept one hand on the anchored section, monitoring the tension, adjusting whenever Dylan shifted too quickly. The rope held firm, fibers stretching just enough to absorb the weight without slipping. Slowly, deliberately, Dylan descended until his boots finally t solid ground below.
The mont his feet touched down, he released the rope and straightened, breathing heavily as he looked around. The forest floor bore the scars of the mudfall—thick sludge coating the ground, snapped branches and uprooted trunks scattered at odd angles, and standing trees streaked with dark, wet earth. It looked like the aftermath of sothing violent and sudden, a reminder of how close he’d co to becoming part of it.
"Hey," Dylan called up, craning his neck toward Liam. "You should see this from down here. It’s... honestly kind of impressive. In a ’nature tried to kill us’ sort of way."
Liam glanced upward toward the slope, then back down at Dylan. "Good. Stay put."
He lifted his gaze to the edge above, where the others stood clustered, watching intently. "It’s clear," he called out. "Next person can co down. Just be careful."
Ariana was the first to move after Liam’s signal echoed upward. She approached the edge carefully, crouching low the way she’d watched Liam do monts earlier. There was a brief pause as she tested her footing, then she began her descent. Unlike Dylan’s awkward struggle or Liam’s calculated slide, Ariana moved with asured grace, adjusting her pace instinctively as the mud shifted beneath her boots. Liam stayed alert regardless, planting himself firmly beyond the tree, one foot braced against the trunk, hands ready to correct her speed if the slope betrayed her. It never ca to that. She descended cleanly, slowing naturally as she neared the bottom, and landed beside Dylan with only a soft splash of mud.
Sheila followed next. Her expression was composed, though tension sat in her shoulders as she eased herself over the edge. She wasn’t as fluid as Ariana, nor as confident with the terrain, but she listened closely to Liam’s instructions, responding imdiately when he called for her to slow or adjust her angle. The rope held steady, the anchor unyielding, and within monts she reached the forest floor safely, exhaling a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Charlotte went last among the girls—and true to her nature, subtlety was nowhere to be found. The mont she committed to the slope, she slid with alarming speed, mud spraying outward as gravity eagerly took hold. Liam reacted instantly, stepping fully past the tree and digging his heels into the earth, arms locking as he seized the rope with both hands. The sudden resistance jolted the line tight, forcing Charlotte’s descent to decelerate sharply before it could beco dangerous. She laughed the entire way down, clearly enjoying herself far more than she should have, before dropping to the ground with a dramatic flourish.
Once the girls were safely down, Liam lifted his gaze back to the slope. Asher was already there, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the entire ordeal. He didn’t wait for much instruction. He slid down with controlled ease, adjusting his balance mid-descent as if it were second nature. Liam watched him closely for a mont, then relaxed, realizing there was no need to intervene. Asher landed cleanly and stepped aside without a word.
Max ca next. He took his ti, slower and more cautious, but steady. His boots slipped once or twice, forcing him to grip the rope tighter, yet he never lost control. Liam remained anchored just in case, correcting the rope’s tension subtly until Max reached the ground without incident.
Only then, once everyone was safely below, did Liam finally allow himself to descend. He released the anchor loops with practiced efficiency, wrapped the rope across his body again, and slid down with the sa controlled precision as before. When his boots hit the forest floor, the tension that had coiled in his muscles since the incident finally eased.
He barely had ti to straighten before Charlotte rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against him without warning. Mud sared across his clothes instantly.
"Whoa—!" he started, but it was already too late.
"See?" Charlotte said brightly, clearly enjoying his lack of reaction ti. "We survived. Worth celebrating, don’t you think?"
Liam grabbed her wrists and firmly pried her off him, taking a step back. "Learn what personal space is," he said flatly. "And don’t do that. You’re covered in mud."
She blinked at him, then smirked. "We’re all covered in mud. Why does it matter?"
"It matters," Liam replied, expression unchanging. "And you still need to learn personal space."
Charlotte only laughed, clearly unfazed, continuing to hover far closer than necessary as if just to test his patience.
Nearby, Sheila approached Dylan, her steps hesitant. "I’m sorry," she said quietly. "If I’d been more alert, we could’ve avoided the mudslide entirely. My ignorance put you in that situation."
Dylan waved her off imdiately. "Hey, what’s the point of wasting ti on what already happened and got solved?" he said. "I don’t think any of that was your fault. We all knew sothing like this could happen—we just didn’t think sharp enough about it."
He glanced briefly toward Liam and Charlotte. "Well... except those two. They picked up on the mud scent early. That’s probably what saved us from getting caught in the slide outright."
Sheila followed his gaze, watching as Charlotte continued pestering Liam, who looked increasingly close to losing his patience. After a mont, she nodded to herself.
"We did well," she said aloud, turning back to the group. "All of us. But we can’t linger. We need to keep moving."
She paused, then added more quietly, "Still... before we go, there’s sothing I should’ve considered from the start. Sothing important that I failed to account for when this trial began."
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