Comfortable boots, Clark thought as he shifted the pack on his shoulders, are a blessing. Howard walked a few steps ahead next to their silent guide. Clark held the leads of their horses, loaded down with gathered resources. Amien had been as good a teacher as anyone could have asked for regarding the foraging and hunting in the area. They had only been away from the camp for a day, but already they were bearing heavy burdens and slowly making their way back.

The huntress was quiet, only talking when absolutely necessary. It was no wonder Howard seemed to enjoy her company so much. The pair often communicated in little more than gestures and grunts. Clark shook his head, turning to study the surrounding territory. The tall grasses that he had come to associate with Farthess Reach waved gently in a crisp fall breeze. As they had moved further north, away from the Rift and the armies that had fought over the site, Tall hills began to break the incessant gentle roll of the plains. To the east, a tall chain of mountains was just visible in the misty distance, looming over the narrowing grasslands.

As the hills thickened, so too did the presence of trees on the grasslands, at first only the occasional giant of a tree, leaves fallen and dormant branches spread skyward, then thin clusters, further north and east the trees thickened, forming a dense and primal forest, primarily deciduous trees, with the occasional evergreen stretching up well past the canopy.

“Why north for the winter?” Clark mused as he eyed the snow crusted tops of the distant mountains.

Amien only grunted in response and for a moment Clark thought that was all he would get. After several long moments, she finally said. “Is safer in forest when storms come.”

“How bad are the storms out here?”

In answer she only looked at him, her serious expression framing blazing blue eyes.

“That bad.” He responded. “North it is then. How soon do you reckon the storms will come?”

The farspeaker shared a knowing look with Howard, the latter only shrugging.

Clark huffed out a sigh, he’d get no more out of the pair of them for a long while. Instead he watched the scenery plod past. The sun was starting to drift down toward the western horizon when Amien suddenly dropped into a crouch. Clark and Howard reacted almost instantly, joining her, between the three of them they had an almost complete view of their surroundings. “What?” Clark’s question was barely breath, but from the corner of his eye he caught Amien’s gesture for silence.

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He made sure his guns were free in his holsters as he tried to find whatever had spooked Amien. It was subtle, oh so subtle, when it finally touched him. A tendril of a sulfur-like smell wafted in on the breeze. Clark turned toward its source, his nose wrinkling at the strong scent. Amien hissed out a breath, “Hunters, pack.” She dropped her bag to the ground with a thud. Two more thuds as the Franklins freed themselves. One of the horses shifted suddenly, hooves lashing out behind.

There was a yelp, sounding something like a dog, but deeper, more robust. “No attack less six.” Amien said as she darted forward, thrusting with her spear. There was another yep then a series of wet sounding growls.

“What are they?”

Amien’s voice was sharp, incredulous. “No question. Fight.” With that the farspeaker darted forward, vanishing into the tall grasses. Howard and Clark wordlessly backed up until they could again command an almost complete view.

“Reckon we need spears..” Howard’s voice was calm as he drew his pistols.

“Or something for hand-to-hand fighting.” Clark agreed, his brown eyes focused on the grasses that surrounded them. He could hear grunts and growls to his right, where Amien was fighting, but he could see something moving through the grasses in front of him, stalks bending out of its way.

The sound of the shot was thunderous and the beast yelped when the bullet connected, but still it came. He had the impression of a wide head, almost bear-like in shape and size, as it emerged from the grasses, one rounded bearlike ear caught the second bullet before it traced a bloody path along the creature’s back. It stood perhaps four or five feet tall, but it moved in an almost feline prowling crouch as it rushed into the small area of trampled grasses. It opened its mouth, emitting a powerful roar and a splash of green tinged spittle. The spit landed on the grasses, hissing and giving off more of the sulfurous fumes. Clark squeezed the trigger on his revolver again, the bullet this time flying into the still open mouth. He heard the round sink into flesh and crash through bone as the creature fell, sliding to a stop just in front of him. He used the harvest brown furred creature as a shield as he looked for another target. “One.” He called to Howard at his back.

Another shot rang out, this one Howard’s. “Three then.” Came the answering call.

One of the horses lashed out again, this time with both feet. When the strike connected, Clark saw another of the animals rise up above the grasses. Two quick shots brought it too down. “Four.” The horse almost broke away, it may have had some fight in it, but horses are creatures of flight at the very core.

“Last one run.” Amien said as she rejoined them in the trampled grasses, dropping two more corpses into the clearing. “Narra.” She kicked one with a bare foot. “Dangerbringing.” She eyed the Franklins for a long moment. “Good fight.” Amien hefted her pack again. “We go.”

“What about them?.Reckon we should bring ‘em. It’s food ain’t it?.”

She shook her head in answer to Clark’s question. “No. Poison. Curse.” She shrugged. “Deathbringing. Wild.” She started walking north once more. “Come. We go.”

Howard let her pass him before grabbing the lead for his horse. “Reckon we could learn..”

“I thought o’ the same. Reckon the guns won’ be enough.” Clark answered, walking after the farspeaker.