Further Up and Further In

Darkness descended. The stars availed, but there was no light emanating. It was a pale, cold light, that came with a cold chill that bit on anything around it. The leaves rustled, and the branches creaked overhead. It was more foreboding than ominous, but it was unwelcoming to intruders all the same. No animal strayed in sight, though if one did, Furley would have no chance of seeing it. He sat still, cold, half-asleep and regretting his recent choices once again. Alone with his thoughts, he had nothing else to do but look inwardly once more. “I always end up back here” he muttered to himself. “I am cursed never to leave this place”. Looking up to the canopy of the trees, he sighed, eyes drooping with fatigue and tiredness. If only he’d not run off in haste, then he could have thought of a proper battle plan. A proper idea, instead of charging head on trying to take five steps forward when all he really did was take six back. Huddling himself closer as he hugged the roots of the trees protruding around him for what little shelter they offered him, he shivered in the breeze, and if he thought he’d fall asleep, the gentle thwack of the wind told him otherwise, though he found it increasingly more and more difficult to stay alert. Snap. He was alert now. Sitting bolt upright, he looked about in the pitch darkness, and saw what he expected to see. Absolutely nothing. Settling back down, he rubbed his backside which had suddenly tingled and felt numb from where he had been sitting so long, perched in the cold mud. Unbeknown to him, something stirred in the darkness. Furley had moved, and that had given away his position. Somewhere in the darkness, someone grinned triumphantly through stained, yellowed teeth, and began to move in his direction. Dropping the snapped twig from their hands, they began moving their way upwards through the trees. They weren’t prone to errors, and the master would be pleased when they hauled the cargo in alive. Furley, though, began to feel more and more unsettled, and he hadn’t the nerve to stay still. “Better to die decisively, than to live by making no decision to affect your fate”, his old master had told him. Reaching slowly, he found the horse’s reins, and he got to his feet. There was little light left to him, and as he glanced through the trees, he could just about make out the outline of the Last Bridge as his eyes adjusted. Turning away from the comfort of knowing where the road lay, he kept his head down and began to head towards the unknown. His boots squelched under foot as the mud squeezed about his boots, still wet from the riverbank. He looked up to where the ridge was. He needed better cover, and a place less open to regroup and think. To make rational decisions. He’d head north up the river trail. Up, up and further in. Somewhere in the darkness, those yellowed teeth grinned once more through cracked lips, as they saw a shadow move. And somewhere, concealed silently a way behind those yellowed teeth, someone else watched on with unblinking focus, moving when they saw the stalker move further northwards. Further up, and farther in.