What number am I?
#3:
I’m fragile as glass, yet strong as steel,
A silent contract, a bond that’s real.
A bridge between hearts that's light as air,
I’m delicate, only earned with care,
Broken by betrayal, but built on hope,
To maintain the balance of a tightrope.
What am I?
#4:
I’m the darkness that creeps deep inside,
A whispered idea that leads you to hide.
In shadows, I lurk, ever growing in size,
Like an unseen specter that could be your demise.
I thrive in uncertainty, fed by the unknown,
Give me access, and you’ll be my home.
What am I?
#5:
In the tapestry of time, I weave my thread.
A destiny unseen, where paths are spread.
Written in the stars, in every twist and turn,
A cosmic dance, a lesson to learn.
I’m the puppeteer of life’s grand play.
Threads of chance in an intricate display.
A script unwritten, a course unknown,
Yet in my hands, all destinies are sown.
What am I?
Using only these five answers, decide on a two-word passcode to enter the camp.
My eyes flash back up to his, none of the words on the page registering. For a brief moment, doubt creeps in, and I wonder if I’m going to be able to make it here against wolves who have been planning, training, and learning to lead pack their entire lives.
“Mind if I look at it? I do better when I can see the words,” he asks, extending his hand in a silent request.