Chapter Text
The hollow crescents my feet left etched in the snow were beginning to frost over. Normally, I would take precautions and erase them, but on a night as cold as this, nature would kindly do it for me. Flakes of ice were already beginning to fall, speckling my dark cloak like melting stars. The wind carried the smell of wet leaves. My throat carried the taste of blood, but of course, that was to be expected.
And there it was. Just beyond the jutting rock my companion and I had noticed earlier. The broken log, the hastily buried coals, the scent of smoke still clinging to the air. A merchant? A potential captor?
I approached the site cautiously, glancing around for any signs of movement. There were no footprints in the clearing, so the group was clearly skilled, and clearly didn't want to be tracked. Who else would take such precautions? If I unburied the coals, I could probably determine if they had cooked something, but it wasn't worth the effort.
It was late. The sky was too dark for further investigation, and besides, I had never found signs of camp near us before. Whoever it was, they still hadn’t found me, and Kes and I would be heading north tomorrow, anyway. If our pursuers hadn’t reached us yet, it was because they hadn’t thought to check the open road, where we had taken to sleeping at night. No potential captor with an ounce of wisdom would ever think to search an area so obvious.
The road had been shielding me for some time now.
Sighing to myself, I scanned the clearing one last time and began trudging my way back to the fire.
****
The forest grew lighter as I neared the open trail.
Named “Anneith’s Road” by locals, it practically traversed the entire continent, and every region called it something different. Legend claimed that these mortals’ goddess of wisdom once used the trail to find her way back to the house of the gods, wherever that was located. Now it was honest merchants’ way of crossing through countries without having to pay as many border taxes.
It was also my way of crossing through countries without being spotted by those who hunted me.
No trotting horse hooves or rolling cart wheels sounded in the distance. The road was silent as the grave at these late hours.
****
I didn’t hear anyone follow me.
But you could never know.
****
Our camp was empty. Kes was likely out tracking insects or running or whatever she did at night. There was little to indicate that it might be a camp, only the dimming embers of a once-lit fire, two bedrolls camouflaged beneath a thick juniper bush, and our provisions hung up the branches of nearby trees, separated for when we split paths and continued on our own.
I should have been sleeping, but I rarely slept. It was dangerous to sleep.
One was only safe with both eyes open.
****
I woke with a start.
Light footfalls in the snow– no, it was only Kes.
She quietly made her way towards the extinguished fire, shifted into what I recognized as a snow fox. She was rarely ever human, always shifting from this to that like she was afraid of remaining the same way for longer than a few minutes. I never asked why, and she never asked why I always scouted out for miles before determining an area was safe enough to sleep in.
It was what people like us did, the prey, always running and hiding and fearing so much that it became part of who we were.
She didn’t say anything and neither did I.
She didn't trust me and neither did I. We were provisional companions, both chased by invisible enemies, and would probably part ways the moment either of us were attacked.
Who knew what she could be after? Best not to find out.
I slept lightly.
****
I didn’t dream that night either—a bad sign.
When fear didn’t come for me in my sleep, it meant that it would wait for me by morning. I shouldn’t be surprised by danger when the sun rose.
****
And I wasn’t surprised when they ambushed us, either.