Damning Trials | Javier Escuella

1: Unfortunate Event

"You good, boy?"

Lin ran her hand on the thick-dark coat of her stallion. Perhaps it made her a fool to lay her concern towards the companion as he was built for extreme weather, but her human skin, although covered in thick leather, was freezing almost wholly. She would be enjoying her time down by the river, warm and dry unlike the snow now currently, if it wasn't for the demanded request she had received. However, work was work, she reminded.

Her sight was covered by the hood on her head, hot breath came out of her mouth. It was highly cold, and she was starting to regret doing a particular order for the day of achieving pelt.

The storm last night was heavy—she was glad she went in the morning for the hunt. Though that problem at side, some leftover wind still carried some on the mountain. Its thick terrain had almost covered her tracks for her way back home in the dry creek. She sighed. She had hoped this trip to the north was worth every penny.

Suddenly, the sky above echoed. Her eyes shot up instantly. Gun shots, she thought. These parts of the mountain were high above and mostly restricted for humans, judging by the roaming predators, just like what she had skinned recently—now stowed on her stallion's behind. Lin knew it was a signal for help, someone needed rescuing, but something pulled her thoughts.

She had much concern to her line of work and her own survival, not to mention this escalating weather that didn't seem to stop nor lessen. Being a savior might need to be on the bottom of her responsibilities. She fed her horse some ginseng, and also drank herself some bourbon; it might helped their temperature.

On the corner before a sharp cliff, she noticed a trail of blood leading to a shadowed part of the mountain. Her eyes squinted, trying to get a view. She saw a man leaning back against the icy wall, weakened and dying. His face was paler than the snow—than the water beneath the ice.

Lin approached closer, in much caution as well, hoping the smell of blood wouldn't trigger any unknown predators nearby. Her eyes were slightly widened when she saw his scars. The marks... they were wolves' cut.

A warm exhale came from her mouth. She could care less, but she didn't want to attract the wolves on her hunting ground. Even though their nest was far from this current territorial grounds. She dismounted her midnight stallion and kneeled down before him. He was unconscious.

She shook his body. "Mister, wake up." He grunted in awakening. His eyes were swallowed by pain itself. He could barely talk. "You alive?"

"I guess..." His voice was rough, like a nail on a chalkboard.

"Come. Let's get you up."

She let his arm looped around her shoulders and then assisted him back up. Carefully and slowly, but surely. She noticed some scratch on his leg as well. If she had believed leaving him was right, then he would have barely an hour to survive. Not without shelter nor consumption. She whistled. "Ein—come."

The stallion approached, and immediately lowered its body down. To a bow or some sort; neck lower than the body. The man climbed up to Ein with Lin trying to hold her ears as he continued to groan his pain out. Lin mounted her horse with a doubt of thought. She wasn't much of a savior since she began hunting from a young age. Her life of solitude approved, at the very least. However, something pricked in her—a shout in her head—to help him.

"Keep your head down. The snow ain't strong but it'll make your condition worse," she instructed.

"Will do, Miss... thank—" His sentence was interrupted with his groan. It was only a matter of time before he would collapse, and it wouldn't be preferable.

Lin tightened the grip on her reins before marching forward carefully around the steep-snowy hill. With her experience, she could've tracked down the recent path her horse had taken. But Ein was trained with much compassion in exploration that he had been used to this odd circumstance. He knew his path back. She couldn't be more proud.