Ricky bounded down the trail, where it headed back into the treeline.

All thoughts of the vine and the pain in his hand faded into the background.

Hawker trail. It lead up to the trail he was on right now, but it also had a difficult to find cutoff which meandered through the rocks on the cliff to his left. If he was able to reach the lady in time, he might just be able to convince her to follow him into the seldom used cutoff, and lose the pursuers for long enough to get into the trees once more and lose them in the switchbacks and foliage.

Safe from the view of Hawkers trail, he pushed himself as fast as he could go, thanking the stars the trail was dirt, and not rock. Unfortunately, the narrow trail twisted and turned between trees and shrubs, barely wide enough for his own headlong dash, though it prevented anyone from seeing very far in any direction. Only with his knowledge of the area and his trust in his instincts allowed him to go so fast through the treacherous terrain.

Slowing as he neared the vaguely remembered location of the cutoff, he saw with great relief, that it was hidden by untamed evergreen branches. Picking up his pace again, he grimaced through cleched teeth.

He still had a chance.

Maintaining his speed, as best he could, the young man strained his hearing throught he sounds of the wind in the greenery, and the blood pumping in his ears.

Suddenly, ahead, in the space made by a fallen tree, he came face to face with the woman, as she emerged from the trail on the other side.

Stunned, he saw that she was wearing a heavy white fabric which seemed to glow in the sunlight. He had never seen such a fabric before, nor a dress in a similar style. Local dress customs seemed a lot more restrictive, and embellished.

It could not be from Westland.

Seeing him in her way, the woman's hand dove into her dress and withdrew a slim blade.

He stopped, raising his hands, and gestured with four fingers on his uninjured hand.

"Four men on your tail!" he whispered tersely.

In the relative quiet of the small clearing, he hoped that the thick vegetation would prevent the words from reaching her pursuers.

She half glanced at the trail behind her, but caught herself, turned back towards him, and blinked once.

"Four? You're sure?" she hissed back, intensely.

Taken aback by the force of her gaze, for a brief moment, Ricky wondered why that particular number was significant.

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Rather than speak again, he simply nodded, and emphasised his four raised fingers.

Her face drained of colour, and she broke into a run, straight for him.

He hurtled back along the trail he had just passed through, her impressively light footfalls only just behind him.

How had she developed the skill necessary to keep up with him?

Why, too, had she believed his words so readily?

As he neared the entrance to the cutoff, he slowed his headlong pace, gathering his thoughts.

"Lady, I'll stay back for a moment to clear our tracks, while you go through the trail there," he whispered, indicating the direction she should go.

"I'll be right behind you once we clear this regrowth." He continued, mindful of the approaching enemy.

Using a fallen branch, Ricky erased their footsteps, noting that the woman's feet had hardly left a mark as it was. Casting the branch aside, he slowly eased the branches back into place over the trail behind him, as he went, careful to prevent the fallen leaves and pineneedles from being disturbed too much.

Ricky breathed a small sigh of relief as he completed his task, before he looked up and saw the woman's piercing green eyes were locked onto his. Swallowing against the fear which gripped him at the thought of her pursuers catching them, the young man moved past her, listening hard for the sounds of pounding feet and breathing from where they'd come.

As they moved along the trail, the plant growth and dirt track became more rocky, and the plants smaller and twisted into the cracks and crevices they had fought to inhabit.

Ricky was lucky he'd been down this track before, and knew the area well. Without prior knowledge, it would have been a matter of moments to lose the path, ending up without a way forward. The two of them had managed to make their way through the more overgrown area without much difficulty.

They reached the base of the granite wall and Ricky letting the rest of the tension out in a silent breath.

Turning to the woman behind him, he saw that she was standing close to the rock wall, knees bent slightly, as if she expected to be waylaid at any moment. Rather than attempt to reassure her, being out of his depth. He took a moment to gather himself.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The sweat he'd worked up in their headlong flight and the tension in his body from the excitement made their presence known, and he stood tall, noting absently that his companion was around the same height.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The greatest danger behind them, he revelled in the breeze gently caressing the sweat on his skin. They weren't out of the woods yet, but he congratulated himself on his success so far.

The trail they were on would wind up into the forest, and once there, they should be able to lose their pursuers with his knowledge of the area.

If they saw they had lost the trail, they might increase their speed, or turn back to examine the trail further. Either way, he was confident he could help this capable woman evade them.

As they ascended into the trail through the rocks, he noticed a cloud shaped like a paper cutout of a snake, with a few curves and an eye and tongue. He stared at it for a few moments, reflecting that there was another thing to tell Zee about.

The old man and his clouds.

The two of them had spent many an hour together, with as drink in their hands as Zee expounded on various cloud shapes and their meanings. As much as he disliked listening to old men drone on, Zee's passion for the subject was endearing, and he always managed to make it sound profound.

Marshalling his thoughts, the young man concentrated on the path forwards. He wanted to rest, from his headlong pace down the trail, but the woman's terror was urging him onwards. He was no match for four full grown men, or even four men his size, and their best chance lay in escape.

He pressed on, heart pounding in his ears.