Soft yet agitated mutterings reached Arn's ears from behind him. He heard the snow crunch under heavy footsteps and the sound of something getting dragged. He felt that he was moving, though not of his own. In fact, he was lying on a hard surface that bobbed and bounced.

Daylight greeted his sight, the sun shone, and a gentle breeze caressed the exposed skin of his face. He watched the trees recede into the distance, realizing that he was strapped to a makeshift gurney. He was moving, which meant that someone pulled the thing.

Arn's thoughts came slowly this morning, and the day's beauty distracted him further. Finally, he noticed the straps that passed below his arms and fastened over his thighs. His hands were free, though, and he brought the right one to his face - all seemed in order. Very good, he thought, now the right one - ah, very good as well.

He tried to look back, but the gurney blocked his sight. The grunts behind him were delivered by a feminine voice. A particularly steep ascent elicited some curses - quite spectacular ones, he thought. Arn almost chuckled. He never wondered who the woman was, nor why he was strapped. Nor did the memories of the previous night reach his mind, tired as it was. The songs of birds and the rustle of the pines were the only sounds he heard. He went back to sleep with a smile.

Arn felt a sudden rattle and jerk, followed by cursing and more muttering. He fought the urge to awaken, for he was in the midst of a particularly pleasant dream. In it, he was back at Nysaros, the whole family sat for one of great uncle Sead's stories. There was food and drink and much merriment.

Another jerk and more cursing. The dream slipped from Arn's mind. He opened his eyes and saw the world lurch once more, then the outline of a doorframe through which he was dragged into a structure. Old wooden beams crossed the ceiling, the space between them covered by animal pelts. The gurney left tracks on the dusty floor, and the snow it dragged inside pooled in dirty puddles. A backlit figure rushed past and closed the door with a soft thud - the woman sighed and muttered something again.

Arn blinked a few times to adjust to the dimmer light. The woman didn't notice him awaking. Against the wall stood several worn spears, a bow, a staff, and a coat hung nearby. He saw a part of a large map with several spots marked, but then the woman came to unfasten him, and he closed his eyes again.

Arn wasn't entirely certain why, but he didn't feel ready for an introduction. She grabbed him with surprisingly powerful arms and roughly pulled him off the gurney and onto a bed, which creaked as he dropped. He reconsidered his earlier decision, though it was too late now. His mind clouded over, and other dreams flowed into it.

'Clink clank,' he heard. There was a slight pause, then a creak as though something was tightened, followed by 'clank, clank, clank.' Another pause, footsteps. Scraping noises followed, then 'dun dun.' Sleep faded from Arn's mind as the noises around him continued.

He breathed in a musty scent, filled with hints of smoke and unfamiliar herbs. Arn lay beneath a soft blanket, no longer fastened to the gurney.

Right, she put me in the bed, he remembered.

His mind was much clearer and sharper this - morning? He wasn't sure what the time was. Arn opened his eyes to see the old wooden beams from before. He looked around - he was in a large hall, bigger than the largest room in his clan house. At its center stood a massive fireplace, and a smouldering flame burned within it. The smoke was sucked upward into the chimney, little escaped into the room.

There were three more beds beside the one he occupied. Two appeared unused. The map from earlier - huge, at least five feet across - hung on the wall opposite him. It displayed the Ahotharo Pass and surrounding area with a multitude of pins marking various locations. Arn turned his head and saw the woman who'd rescued him last night. She stood over a table with tools and clamps, though Arn didn't quite know what she was doing.

She was the source of the sounds - 'clink clank,' then 'dun, dun, dun' once she used the larger hammer. She wore a leather vest and loose brown pants that were held up by a thick belt with many latches. Her arms tensed as she twisted something on the table, the muscles moving like cables beneath her skin. Old scars on her right forearm drew Arn's attention.

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She stopped moving, and the sounds stopped too. Startled, he looked up - their eyes met. Her's were a bright violet on the outer edge of the iris and green around the pupil. Too many thoughts and questions rushed all at once, yet none amounted to either words or actions. Arn continued to stare. The woman raised one eyebrow and tilted her head.

"You seem fine, but," she said, then motioned towards him with her hand, "what's happening right now?"

His face grew warm. "I - nothing, I'm fine. Where am I?" he asked and looked around.

"Thank you, glorious saviour, for delivering me from a miserable death in the cold forest. How can I ever repay you?" she said with a flourish of her arm.

Arn's memories of last night were still foggy, though he did recall the gurney. "Thank you, thank you for saving my life," he said. "Glorious saviour..." he added a second later with a smile.

She chuckled and shook her head. "What were you doing so far from the road?"

Arn turned away from her and stared at the flames in the fireplace. Memories rushed into his mind, none of which he welcomed. "I got lost."

"You got lost?" she replied with emphasis on the last word.

"Yes."

"Boy goes lost in Ahotharo Pass, ends up miles deep in Aaro woods, far from the trail. Saved by a lucky encounter with a ranger. Is that about right?"

"Sure," he said, still watching the flames.

Arn wanted to get his bearings, to explain what happened to himself, before telling it all to her.

A ranger? This woman is a ranger? He turned back towards her.

The best word to describe her was rugged. She certainly looked like what Arn imagined a ranger would.

"You're a ranger?" he asked.

"Lucky that you passed out where you did. Anywhere else, and no one would have ever seen or heard of you. You'd be another kid lost in the mountains."

"I'm not a kid."

She chuckled, "oh, excuse me."

Arn grimaced. She doesn't know anything about me, he thought. She wouldn't call him a 'kid' if she knew what he went through. But he wasn't about to tell a stranger - he hadn't even told everything to his own father.

He winced at the thought and mentally closed off that door.

"Why was it lucky?" he asked the woman.

"Why?" she chuckled, "because it's a large forest, that's why. Usually a quiet forest too. Then, I hear a booming, thundering noise - I could have sworn that it was a voice, but - that's just ridiculous." She shook her head and chuckled again.

Arn held her gaze. He wondered whether she heard the strange raven or the other voice that came after. It must have been the second since the raven spoke in his dream, or in his mind, he wasn't entirely sure which.

"Anyway," she continued, "being the vigilant ranger that I am, couldn't ignore it, so I went to check. And here we are, a couple of days later."

"A couple of days later?" Arn exclaimed, his voice hitting an uncomfortably high pitch.

"Oh yeah, you've been out cold for some time."

Arn tried to make sense of the last few hours - or rather days, as it turned out. He knew at least one of the voices he heard was real since she heard it as well. But, is this woman real? Could I still be in the forest somewhere, dying from exposure? He shook his head and abandoned that line of thinking.

"Why were you out there anyway?" the ranger asked.

"I got lost," he muttered in response.

The ranger started, mumbled a few things, waved a finger in the air, then shook her head. "To get lost, you'd have had to leave the trail - and I know the good old stableboy back at the Ar'Thorsan tower is very clear about that part."

"I had to go around the trail, and that's how I got lost." It was near enough to the truth, at least as close as Arn was going to tell her.

"What happened?" she asked and eyed him suspiciously.

"I, I don't remember," he lied.

"You don't remember?" she cocked her head.

"The road was blocked by snow, a lot of it - I, everything is still - it's hard to remember."

She frowned. Arn didn't think she believed him. The ranger watched him for a moment, then her posture relaxed.

"Well," she said, "well, you have been passed out here for a couple of days, but you're better now."

"A couple of days," Arn muttered, still getting used to the idea.

"Oh yeah, mumbling and moaning in your sleep. Wasn't sure which way you were headed at first."

"Which way - what?"

"You're ah," she said, then frowned, "you do seem as though more rest is in order. But don't think that I've forgotten my questions. We will get back to your story later. She brought out a teapot that emanated a strong, pungent scent.

"Here," she offered a cup, "drink, sleep, feel better."

What is this? Could it be poison? No, of course not.

She could have simply killed him at any point during the days - was he really out for days? He took the cup and drank. The liquid made him gag, and he held a hand to his mouth.

"Swallow!" she commanded. Arn did, barely. The subsequent few sips weren't quite as bad since he knew what to expect. Sleep came over him within minutes.