- TMK -

The blue of evening fell as they crossed the tundra. Steaming puffs of breath flowed from Katakos’ nostrils as he walked. His legs burned, his hands were numb, and his eyelids heavy. He had to continue though. Sedryc’s shivers grew fainter by the minute.

           

Worse, Gondir had grown weak. The beast struggled to keep pace with Katakos, tugging the hunter back with every limp. The trek had gotten so dire, Katakos resulted to tying a rope between his waist and Gondir’s saddle to help pull the beast forward. All the furs had been discarded; only essential equipment tied to Katakos’ back.

           

Including the hundred-pound tungsten horn.

           

Despite his efforts, Katakos knew he failed when he felt a heavy tug against his waist and a bump against snowy grass. He turned to find Gondir fallen over.

           

The beast’s breaths were shallow and fast. Dumping the equipment on his back, Katakos rushed to his friend. He first pulled Sedryc off the baliyon, laying the boy gently to the side. Then he examined the lacerations in the creature’s side.

           

As he placed a glove to the wound, Katakos wanted to scream. There was no more blood seeping from the cuts. The creature had none left. Instead, bile frothed at its mouth as its eyes grew glassy.

           

Katakos ripped his glove away, pressing a bare hand to fur and skin that had already grown cold.

           

“I’m sorry,” Katakos said. He waited as Gondir’s heartbeat slowed, and finally, stopped. Katakos wanted to sit there for an eternity, mourning his friend. He wanted to curse the mountains, the plains, and everything between. Except the boy to his side still breathed, if just barely.

           

So Katakos bent over, pressing his lips to the corpse’s chilled cheek. He uttered a quick prayer to Gods he knew were not listening. Then he placed Sedryc on his back and trudged to the glimmer of orange battling the darkness.