Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
More ash is falling, and the borrowed wraps I’m wearing aren’t particularly warm, but the hike gets the blood roaring, and I’m soon panting and sweaty despite the chill in the air. It’s overcast, thick, stormy clouds making it seem dark even at midday. There’s more ash falling than snow right now, and I keep my mouth and nose covered, like I’ve seen the others doing. Surely it can’t go on longer than a few days. I just have to suck it up. More troubling is the fact that the ash is getting into everything - considering that getting fresh water is as easy as scooping some new snow most times, I’m a little worried.
Even more troubling is just how silent Hassen is as we travel. He’s courteous to me if I ask questions, and helps me free my snowshoes if I trip. He offers me a hand when I struggle going down a hill. But he’s so very quiet, and the expression on his face is grim.
I worry about him. There’s no determination in his step, no confidence. He’s going through the motions, but there’s nothing there. I can’t tell if he’s upset at me, or just upset at the world. I don’t know if he’s in shock or if he’s grieving for Eklan like Warrek is…but I know there’s something wrong. My heart aches for him. And even though I’m quickly getting exhausted and this is just the first afternoon in what promises to be weeks of a journey, I’m still glad I’m here, because he needs someone. He can’t go through this alone.
Until he reaches out and tells me what is bothering him, though, I’m going to let him have his silence. Sometimes you need to be in your own head to process things, and nagging him won’t help. Plus, it’s taking all of my energy just to keep up. I bend my head and focus on putting one snowshoe in front of the other, following his tracks.
We make intermittent stops throughout the day, pausing to cross a stream or to check trails. We see a herd of dvisti in the distance, but don’t go after them. I’m guessing we’re going to have enough to carry home without adding more to our load. As the day wears on, my feet ache and my teeth chatter with cold, but I don’t complain. I do, however, scour every passing cliff in the hopes that we’re going to find a hunter cave and stop soon. I have to keep going until Hassen gives the word, though. I’m supposed to be helping rescue the others—I don’t know what kind of rescuer I’d be if I can’t even keep up with the preliminary hike.
And I don’t want him to change his mind and turn around so he can take me back to the others.
There’s no sign of either sun in the cloudy, angry skies, but I do notice it gets progressively darker as we travel. We veer off an easy trail through a valley to climb up a steep hill, and I want to bitch, but I figure there’s a reason we’re suddenly taking the hard road. When I see a cave entrance in the distance, a hint of a screen covering it, I sob with relief. There are a few rocks tumbled around the entrance, but it otherwise looks whole and undisturbed.
Thank god.
It hasn’t occurred to me until just now that there might not have been a hunter cave nearby. That they might not have survived the earthquake either. Man, we are in such deep doo-doo.
We approach it, and I inwardly cringe, expecting Hassen to turn this into a teachable moment. That I’m going to need to check the cave out, build a fire, do inventory, and I’m so damn exhausted that it makes me want to cry at the thought. It has to be done, though, so I need to suck it up.
But he only touches my shoulder absently. “Wait here. I will inspect the cave.”
And that worries me, too. Because it’s not like Hassen to coddle me. Normally he teases me, makes a few jibes at my bad observational skills, and then shows me the right way to do something after letting me attempt it a few times. He’s not even trying. And okay, maybe now isn’t the perfect time for lessons, and I’m grateful, but I also worry that this is just more proof that Hassen’s retreating.
He can’t retreat from me. I need him. He needs me. I can’t let him push me out.
Hassen disappears into the cave and returns a moment later, waving me in. I enter the darkness and feel for a wall. The rocks here are a little jagged—probably freshly ripped apart by the earthquake—and I’m a little careful as I move inward. “Do you want me to make the fire?”