Kveta followed in Mira’s footsteps as they traveled along the river. Mosquitos and gnats filled the air, though Kveta found it no longer bothered her after so many days spent in the Wash. Every hour they walked, Kveta felt they’d walked a hundred kilometers from Risto. A hundred kilometers further from her family.
Mira stopped them on a flat slab of dark granite beside the river. Kveta sat, facing the gently flowing water. When Mira sat next to her, Mira had taken off her armor, leaving on a surprisingly civilian jacket and khakis underneath. The image of those that took zamarkite emblazoned in Kveta’s mind made little room for any commonness, and yet Kveta realized Mira had likely been as her, once. Barefoot, Mira dangled her feet into the water.
Clearing her throat, Kveta asked, “Are you a long way from home?”
Mira nodded. “Twice as many leagues as from here to Lun.”
“So,” Kveta said, trying to remember the name of the beast Mira had claimed to be hunting, “I guess that... greyfang... can travel pretty far?”
“The Greyfang of Obsidia,” Mira said. “Have you heard of it?”
Greyfang was a derivative word, Kveta knew. Some poorly translated adjective from Kotenese to Sakrian, which likely hadn’t survived the transition to Kelvish. “Greyfangs used to be hounds, yeah?”
“Wolves,” Mira said. “I’m not sure wolves ever came as far east as we are.”
Kveta shrugged. “I know about wolves too, I guess. They used to kill shepherds for cattle, and trick children into their caves, or they just moved in packs. Wasn’t there a pack that the Witch-Queen could not contain?”
Mira laughed, stifling it a moment after. “No, there wasn’t,” she said. “Perhaps if she were still around, she might round up the greyfangs too, though they are worse things.” Mira sighed, looked longways at Kveta. “Do you have any food in your pack?”
Kveta pulled her backpack around and sifted through the side pack until she found a bar of jerky. “Here,” she said, handing it to Mira. “This is the only thing I have that you can eat, I think.”
Mira stared at the bar for a second, made to bite into it without taking off the wrapper, but seemed to stop herself. She peeled the wrapper like an orange’s skin, and promptly bit halfway up the stick. She ripped it in two with her teeth, and offered the shorter half to Kveta as she began to chew her own half.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Kveta said, leaning away from the offering.
Mira shrugged and stuffed the rest of the bar into her mouth, chewing noisily enough that Kveta suppressed an urge to tell her to chew quieter.
After an exaggerated swallow, Mira patted Kveta on the shoulder. “Thanks. I promise I won’t take anything else today. This was a show of force, do you understand?”
“Uh, sure,” Kveta said. I told her that was the only thing I had that she could eat. “I only have my own kinda food left anyway.”
“Oh,” Mira said. “But you have plenty for yourself, then?”
Kveta peeked into her pack, at the collection of canteens and wrapped up stacks of bread stuffed next to her spare ammunition clips. “Uh, enough for awhile,” Kveta said. “Until we find another town.” Hopefully.
“There’s a place called Messer,” Mira said. “A week’s walk north of here, along the Greyfang’s trail I believe. There’ll be food there.”
Kveta shrugged, decidedly uncertain.
Peering at Kveta, Mira sighed. “I suppose I can hunt anyway. I’m not so far gone as to forget what you can and can’t eat. Rabbits, deer, but nothing with too pure a concentration of ‘kite?”
“Any zamarkite at all would probably kill me,” Kveta said, though she knew it was an exaggeration. “And the safe game has all been chased out by the beasts, or into the reserves.”
“Safe game is furitive,” Mira said. “But not gone.” She stood, stretching. “Another few leaves and we’ll reach Tyere, an abandoned--”
“Tyere is home only to vines and spiders,” Kveta said, startled. “It’s overrun. That’s all anyone knows.”
Mira chuckled. “Spiders and vines?”
“Not the little ones,” Kveta said.
“I know,” Mira said, grinning as she walked back to her armor. “The big ones.”
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