Canth dropped against the ground. Sharp blades of grass stabbed him through his tunic and a thin layer of snow that had settled beneath the turf sent chills down his back.

He did not care.

Gazing up into the cold sunlight, mountains continued to tower above them just has they continued to plummet below them. The rocky shelf he lay on was one of few respites in the steep crags up the peaks.

"We've been climbing for about a day now," Castleia mused, spying across the hills. "Looks like we've made it maybe a quarter of the way into the hills, and maybe half way up them."

"Good for us," Canth groaned. "Threror said the Dwarves would find us before we found them." The boy reached his hands into the empty sky. "I'm ready. Come get me. Please."

Castleia laughed. "Get up scribbler. We've many more mountains to climb before we reach the summit."

He let his arms drop to the ground. "Please. Can we please rest for a couple more minutes."

"Did I go too easy on you in our duels?" she laughed. "Are you hurting little scribbler."

"Yes!" he exclaimed from the ground. "Yes. My arms are burning and shaking. Oaths, I could hardly hold a pen still if I tried."

"Well you have a sword and shield to carry, not a pen. Better pick them up."

He rolled over, letting his perspiration-covered face feel the coolness of the frost in the grass.

Castleia rolled her eyes. "Fine. We'll rest for a time. But when the sun reaches that peak," she pointed, though he did not bothered to notice where, "we are going again."

She sat cross-legged in the grass beside him. He could not see her but heard her plucking blades of stiff grass from the stubborn ground. Closing his eyes, Canth took a deep breath and rolled over again, propping himself up to see her.

Her fingers manipulated the hazy green stems into delicate knots, lacing them together. As he watched, she created a small chain and tied into together into a loop.

"Would you like a crown my little princess?"

He laughed, falling onto his back again. "I think not. Besides, it would look far more fetching on you than me I should think."

She shook her head, but donned the small crown anyway. The two shared a laugh at the look.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

Castleia's smile began to fade. "My mother."

After another breath, she pulled the grass from her head, letting the knots fall undone into a pile of dead blades.

Canth pursed his lips. He considered apologizing for a moment but decided against it. Instead, he stood, and she gave him a surprised look.

"I'm taking a leak," he explained, "don't get any ideas about starting this adventure again." Shaking his head as he walked a short way away, he could not help but think, Storytellers never said what it was like to be in the story. Bloody hunt, I don't know if I can take much more of this.

Turning back to make sure he was hidden behind a shelf of rock, he untied his trousers and look up.

If he had not been prepared to make water already, he would have wet himself.

Nestled in the shelf of rock between the peak face and the alcove where he had hidden himself, a beast lay curled in a monstrous form of dense hair. Huge claws, each palm as large as his head, scratched absently at the ground. Its massive eyelids squeezed closed as it dreamed, panting from a wet black nose.

A mountain bear.

Trembling, this time not from exhaustion, he frantically retied his clothes and tried to recall anything he had read about the nature of mountain bears.

It seemed an old explorer had written a scroll saying they were... Were what? Fiercely territorial, his memory finished. 'Particularly in spring when malnourished for tending to their young,' he recalled. Perhaps this one does not have any young.

Even as the thought formed in his mind, a small pair of ears poked out from under the massive shadow of the sleeping bear. A tiny pair of beady eyes blinked up at him and offered a playful growl.

Eyes wide, he backed out of the cave. Even as he was stepping away, his foot caught on a rock, sending him spiraling to the ground. Rock scattered across the ground.

A black eye shot open.

Without waiting, Canth spun and frantically clawed through the rock for footing. Stones behind him rustled as the beast rose. Mews from bear cubs echoed the roar of their mother. Catching a footing, Canth dashed and stumbled away.

"You can't be that-" Castleia started in a humorous tone, looking up. Her eyes burst open and face fell. Her feet launched her into the air, Canth's sword in hand from where he had left it.

He dared not turn to see the beast behind him. Instead, his feet cared him hurtling toward the cliff edge where Castleia stood. Sliding beside her, his fingers fumbled for his shield.

Glancing up, he gaped in horror. The monster was already on them.

It loomed at least nine feet tall, its monstrous talons already swinging through the air to rend them in pieces.

Castleia whipped the sword's edge against one of its talons. The arc missed its claw, instead thudding dully against the thick fur of the creature's chest. A maw sheered through the air near Castleia's face, but the girl ducked to avoid it. She could not avoid the second, however. A sickeningly thin sound of rending skin and muscle was immediately followed by Castleia's excruciating scream. Her sword clattered to the stones.

The entire encounter had been a breath.

Canth found the straps of his shield. Pulling it over his shoulder, he threw up the barrier as the bear's next attack fell on him. He whipped around, putting the bear between himself and the cliff. The monster tried to follow, stumbling over its own bulk. Searching for footing on the cliff edge, the beast's rear paw scratched at the loose stone for balance.

Taking his opportunity, Canth charged. Later Castleia would tell him he roared in the moment, but nothing penetrated his adrenaline surge. Bracing his shield against his shoulder, Canth pummeled into the bear's chest.

Nothing happened for a tenuous moment.

Then the weight of the monster began to waver backwards. Then it was falling, plummeting over the cliff. Frantic claws lashed against the rocks, gouging marks into the jagged surface.

Canth hurled himelf from the edge, feeling his feet slip over the precipice even as his back connected with the ground. For a tantalizing breath, his balance shifted between his legs dangling over the edge and his back on the safety of the ledge.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself away from the precipice. Throwing his shield aside, he clawed at the stiff grass and hauled himself away from the cliff until his toes touched the safety of the stone.

The entire fight was perhaps a minute.

Canth lay panting. Pain was already beginning to throb from his shoulder and his hands were soaked with blood from where they had been shredded against the rocky ground.

Beside him Castleia groaned.

Pulling himself upright, he forced his eyes to steady and his heart to slow enough to survey the scene.

Castleia was curled on the ground, cradling her shoulder in a pool of crimson. Four gouges rent the skin open, stretching from her upper right arm, across her neck to under her ear. She whimpered and shook, fingers tenderly clawing at the wounds in a feeble attempt to stem the bleeding.

Canth gaped. His blood pumped wildly even as hers spilled onto the rock.

She was breathing, or something like it. Shaking breathes tremored out of her paling lips. Her eyes had closed under ashy lids that quaked as she shivered.

The events of the last minute lashed through Canth's brain until he summoned the strength to move. He pulled his shirt off, temporarily ignorant to the swaths of cold wind that battered against the now silent cliff. He tenderly wrapped her in the garment.

With more than a bit of reluctance, Canth departed from the cliff edge to find a safer place. He was not sure why or even to what end, but it seemed the only logical thing to do.

Most of the little crevices and divots in the rock were just that – crevices and divots. A couple times he found actual caves in the rocks, but they either delved too deeply into the mountain or plummeted too far beneath the rock for him to safely explore. In every instance he traced every crack and off-shoot, recalling too many hazardous tales from lore of goblins setting their homes in the stones. Or worse, traps for weary travelers.

The sun was scratching the mountain tips before he found a suitable hovel. It was a shallow cave with a wide mouth, but the stone seemed sound and there were no mysterious off-branches were beasts could lurk.

Carefully scooping Castleia up, Canth picked his way to the shelter. Her skin was cold against his hands, but the shirt she was wrapped in was already warm and nearly black with blood.

He lay her down gently on the silted floor of the shallow cave and sat cross-legged beside her.

The small space smelled of mildew and damp. It was oddly comforting in a way. Canth closed his eyes and imagined for a moment they were not in a distant mountain but instead in the cellar of Ton's tavern, enjoying a drink at his expense. Eyes still closed, he leaned against the cave wall and his dream was dispelled by the damp rock as soon as it had begun.

A wealth of reading told him he should do something for Castleia – wash the wound, bind it, stitch it, wrap it, treat it with some menagerie of herbs – but there was nothing he could do. They had no water canteen to wash it, no bandage to wrap it beyond his shirt, no needle or threat to stitch it, and no assortment of herbs growing in the cliff ledges.

As he thought, he saw a strand of blood-soaked hair had fallen across Castleia's motionless face.

He reached out to tuck it away. His hand shook against his will, but he tucked the golden strand behind her ear where small wisps of blond hair curled beautifully.

He smiled at the thought that of what she might say if she had been awake.

And then his face darkened again at the prospect that she was not.

"It's going to be alright," he whispered, tucking another corn silk strand away from her ashen skin. "It's going to be alright."

Outside the cave, the sun hid its face from them. The hunt began as the moon rose into the black sky, slowly chasing the constellations across the night.

"It's going to be alright," he murmured.

The rock around where he sat grew more red than black the longer they sat in chilled solitude. He could not tear his hand from the icy skin of her cheek.

"It's going to be alright," he breathed.

An almost full moon shown down on him from the sky. Its bottom edge was dimpled with black in a mournful frown. The starry shapes around it twinkled unphased by the Hunter.

Canth tore his eyes from Castleia's motionless face, meeting the Hunter's gaze.

"It's going to be alright," he begged. 

Hey all! Thanks for reading this newest installment! This chapter really achieved two things -- first, I wanted to give another shot at writing a suspenseful scene after getting some good advice from a friend. What do you think? Were you afraid? I'd love to hear your responses in the comments. Second, this is kind of an important and pivotal point in Castleia and Canth's journey I think. You probably won't see why until their next segment, but it should help move the story along so we can keep pursuing the plot. If you have any thoughts -- as always -- I'd love to hear them!! In the mean time, happy reading!