Sang walked through the brush with strong, purposeful strides, Shirisha trailing behind despite her best efforts. She had certainly begun to move faster and easier in her four days outside the village, but it still could not compare to Sang's ability to traverse any feature they came across seemingly without effort. The forestry was far more dense on this side of the river, and so they both found themself forcefully shoving aside branches and brambles just to make headway. Shirisha began to harbor a growing number of tiny cuts on her arms and legs from the stray thorns that came whipping back into place when trying to shove them aside. Sang was far quicker to dodge away when this would happen, and the cuts that he did gain did not phase him at all. Occasionally, he would break branches altogether with the raw power he had in his movement.
It had been a few hours since they had reached and crossed the river once again, stepping once more over Abhinatha's lifeless tongue and brushing away the light snow to reveal the tracks, which had grown fainter. The two of them were protected from the snow now by the canopy, but still the chilly air seeped into their small wounds as Sang followed the haggard and struggling path of small footprints.
At random intervals, Sang would stop suddenly and stoop down, closely examining the ground and its surroundings with diligence before getting up to continue their battle through the plants.
Shirisha noticed that this started to happen more and more often, at one point asking anxiously: "Have we lost the trail? The first footprints were quite clear to myself and everyone, but I admit it has been hours now since I have seen anything that I think could be a sign."
Sang stopped and dropped to the ground again, examining a few cold, dried grasses in his fingers before responding:
"You could not have asked for clearer tracks back at the river. Wet earth will hold its shape for several days, and the prints themselves were... delirious. Dragging of the feet in heavy, awkward steps; easy to see even for an untrained eye. Here and now is different. There is little doubt that they were light to begin with, but it seems they picked up their speed, what is more in a place where nature covers its scars quickly and we gave it an extra day to do so."
He turned to her, his eyes calm but hardened.
"Any hunter will tell you that this is the most difficult part, when you have just begun and the trail is days old and fading," he lifted an open palm, revealing a tiny piece of moss with half of its fibers standing upright and half of them crushed flat. "But you must stay persistent, and as you come closer to your target the tracks will become clearer."
They continued until orange light was cast through the trees, using the omnipresent sound of running water to find their way back to the river where they bundled themselves as best they could along the shore. Sang made sure to distinctly mark the most recent track with a thick crown of sticks, so that it would be found easily when they set off again. As he started to light the smallest of fires, Shirisha looked out to the river silently swallowing stray drifts of snow, and noticed it to be a bit wider than at Abhinatha's head. She was too tired to think much of it though, and huddled closely around the tiny flame, she fell asleep.
She woke up shortly after the first light, feeling the air which had grown colder still descend around her like a claw. She lifted her head to see Sang sitting on a rock, awake as ever. Getting up groggily, she felt waves of dull aches spreading through, her muscles sore from their use yesterday and with another day ahead of them. She also realized this was the most tired she had ever felt, the poor and disturbed sleep she experienced in the past several days now taking its toll. Before she thought of the pain however, she felt a deep pang of worry about the others and the village awaiting them, now dealing with the growing cold. This worry sat in her stomach as she followed Sang back into the thicket for another day of struggling through foliage.
It seemed to never thin away, the same process now even harder as Shirisha pulled and swung with sore muscles in the hungering cold. The light in the sky felt different since Abhinatha's passing; tainted with subdued sinistry. Almost in mimicry to how it was becoming colder, Shirisha could hear for certain the river growing louder and larger as they continued, taking on a new rushing sound altogether.
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Dusk came again, a little sooner this time, and at one point during the day Sang had managed to impale a rabbit with a reactionary throw of his knife. It made Shirisha feel a little ill, seeing its limp body dangle from Sang's waist by the ears for hours, but her desire to regain strength and press forward was stronger.
At nightfall Sang cooked the tough and scrawny rabbit meat by the tumbling river, which was now almost as big as when Shirisha saw it for the first time. The nipping, needle-like wind was beginning to return as they sat there, coming in brief gusts. Feeling them on her skin as she tore into the meat, her worry only deepened as she imagined what they felt like up on the mountain, where the winds were far stronger and the rest of the group was expected to return tomorrow.
This worry stuck to her insides, turning into sadness at how they all must suffer, then anger as to how it all had happened, then sadness again. She thought of all those times during the year she had asked Sang with compassion and forgiveness about why he acted the way he did, only to be brushed off like a flea. All of these thoughts while struggling through the same difficult, monotonous task, she could finally take it no more and stopped.
"Sang," she spoke with a torrent, "I have asked you before, and I will ask you once again. Why? Why all those months ago did you slaughter the nilgai so mercilessly, leaving us to suffer with what you did for the whole of winter, murdering the only thing we knew could save us, and why, after all of that, did you risk your life for the sake of my own?"
Her voice started to quake, all the while Sang stood still with his back turned towards her.
She continued, "Whether or not I can truly forgive you is what we are here struggling to find, but know that I will try my hardest, Sang, which is more than anyone else will offer. But please. No one else is here. Just tell me why."
He stood there for a long time, rotating his dagger along his fingers, then finally turned his head, and scoffed slightly.
"Nothing ever does sway you, it seems. The reasons are my own."
He spoke in a low, cold, and affirmative voice, turning without another word to continue pushing through the dense branches. Shirisha stared blankly as he pressed, and for the first time in her life, her fists clenched with the hot swell of rage that rose up into her face and mind.
She stated strongly and angrily: "No matter deep you conceal them or how thick the walls that protect them, the reasons for harming your own people, you must tell them, or you will die a lonely death with no warmth of love as you cling to them for the rest of your days."
He spun around and took a single strong step towards her, his eyes flaring. She did not flinch as she stared straight back into them. After an instant his eyes lost their heat, and he let a long, irate breath out of his nose before turning slowly to again lead the way. Shirisha followed. She felt that anger, that momentary defiance, once again melt into sadness and worry as it always did.
Shortly afterwards, Shirisha noticed the branches finally starting to thin, and was now able to duck under some and easily brush past others. The foliage became thinner and thinner as the tension that was suddenly created between the two of them loosened a little, and it slowly revealed a natural haven, earth covered in soft moss surrounding a trickling stream leading off to their right to connect to the main river. There was a large, old boulder coated in the same moss a short distance away, providing good shelter for sleep. They took a moment to stare at this place, deeply appreciative of the small paradise that finally exempted them from their struggles throughout the past three days.
Dusk was still a few hours away, but it was silently agreed that this is where they would stay for the night. Shirisha drank deeply from the stream and tried her best to stretch her sore muscles on the boulder, whilst Sang took a few scant sips and leaned against it silently until dusk came. The moss was naturally cold from the air --which was now growing frigid-- but was untouched by snow and could easily be warmed by bodies and fire, creating for the first time since Shirisha left the village something close to a bedding.
As they sat around the fire and night descended, Shirisha felt a small guilt rise up in her of what she did earlier, despite some other parts of her mind saying it was justified. She spoke quickly and calmly, looking into the fire.
"I should not have let my emotions get the better of how I spoke earlier, It was like a child, but.." she let out a sigh, "I believe my words still stand true."
Sang, also staring into the fire, closed his eyes in response, and leaned slowly back onto the boulder. Whether it was in ignorance or acceptance Shirisha could not decide as she drifted into sleep.