They awoke the next morning, still dismally soaked as the skies had poured out copious amounts of rainwater on them overnight. The traveler's clothes hung on the tree branch as he'd placed them, clinging together in a wet bundle of shabby fabric. The cloak he wore around him withstood the torrential downfall somewhat better, but he knew they'd be starting out their day completely sodden.
And the worst of it all: he could hardly smoke while exposed to the deluge.
He did not like this journey, now. But he was resigned to see it through, as he had given his word to the girl.
Upon seeing him stirring, Kitten offered him a portion of her boar jerky from her bag. The girl remained ever cheerful and optimistic, despite the dreadful state they were in.
He wondered again how she managed to keep her enthusiasm. She was a wanderer, like him. She left her home, her kin, for lands unknown - why? Most only do so under duress, so she could not be without some shadow in her past. Was she delusional?
He watched her as she ate her scanty meal. She was too young to be out wandering the wide world alone, he thought. She was intelligent in a bookish sort of way, but woefully naive and trusting. If he were a disreputable man, she would have regretted stepping foot outside Bree in his company by now.
He shook his head and pulled on his water-logged boots. Too many thoughts and nothing to smoke.
The climb to the top of the hill was fortuitous only in that the rain paused and allowed the sun to warm the land and turn sopping clothes into merely dank.
It was then that he discovered that his left boot sole had come loose of its stitches at the toes, and the leather was now flapping with every step on the boggy ground.
At midday they reached the top of the hill and approached the entrance to the mysterious outpost. He asked Kitten to stay while he scouted ahead for any danger.
As he approached the garrison, he saw that it had long fallen into dereliction. Masonry crumbled away, large trees had grown up between cracks, and wildlife had made a nest of what Man had built and forgotten.
He waved for her to follow, minding her steps on the unstable stairway. Once inside, she regarded the carvings on the walls, theorizing on their origin aloud. The traveler had nothing to add to her musings as he was not particularly learned, nor did he possess the same curiosity about it.
It wasn't until they reached the edge of the fortress and took in the vast overlook of Bree-land and beyond that he finally felt appreciation for the unplanned trek.
To see the verdant landscape unfolded so boundlessly before him was humbling. It was immense and limitless, lush and living, larger than his life.
The things he cared for - the things he pined for - were inconsequential to it. Greater forces than he would ever affect this world.
Squinting his eyes to look in the distance, he stepped forward with reverence to the edge of the building.
And with that footfall, the stonework beneath him collapsed. He felt himself falling, and then the world he'd been admiring went black.
He wasn't sure how she roused him from the mishap. He felt an odd reverberating sensation and then a sharp crack of pain shot through his body, but the wave quickly fled. His head ached as he opened his eyes to see a tawny face with wide azure eyes looking down on him with concern.
An ivory coloured bear was now at his feet.
Survival instincts engaged and he scrambled backward, wildly grasping for his knife. Kitten shouted for the bear to run and simultaneously begged him to spare the beast. She tried to reason with him, but her pleas were meaningless to his ears as he watched the bear slip into the brush...
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that the bear obeyed the girl. In spite of being openly threatened, in spite of being outdoors in its element, in spite of an aggressive yet injured man frantically backpedaling in an indefensible position - the cub followed her orders explicitly even unto its own detriment.
It took several moments for his heart-pounding adrenaline to ebb and wane enough to process what he saw. The beast was intrinsic to her in some way, and it was probably the reason she'd traveled so far across the lands with no ails to show for it.
He had once heard someone say that the greatest gift one could give to another is the gift of acceptance. Kitten had already gifted him.
Though reluctant, he now would gift her in return. He sheathed his knife.
That evening, they found a tiny rocky alcove in which to shelter themselves from the elements. The traveler once again hung his damp clothes to dry as Kitten built a fire.
And it was the first time he'd ever slept in the proximity of a snoring, fanged, clawed beast... that let his mistress use it as a pillow.
