Someone else is out here.
Still no road.
What was that?
Tall trees, soft moss, red mushrooms with white spots. Pretty. Still no idea where we're going.
The creature hasn't left my shoulder since the meadow. It seems very happy with the arrangement.
"Finally." What did it mean by that?
In time.
A crack, somewhere ahead. Then a heavy thud. Then another one.
The birds go quiet, all at once. That can't be good.
Something big.
There.
It's close now. Very close.
Whatever it is, it's not trying to be quiet.
Quiet. Watch first.
A man with a spear. And across from him, a hill. A hill with arms, glowing eyes and mushrooms on its head. A very angry hill.
No word for that thing. But a man… The first person since the meadow.
"Is that one of yours?"
Certainly not. It belongs to the wilds.
No hesitation. Not even a little. This is not his first fight.
That should not be possible.
A fist of solid rock, bigger than he is. And he just… holds it.
He could use some help. All I have are these hands.
Stay. This is not your fight.
Right over those glowing eyes.
For one moment, nothing moves. Not him, not the hill, not even the creature on my shoulder.
Don't miss.
