Here, where the forest thinned out and a narrow belt of long grasses, stubby bushes, moss scattered boulders and bleached white tree trunks touched the skirts of the mountains above.
Here with each breath in small evaporating clouds and the sweat creeping down his neck cool, cold. Here would be a good place to fight, or die.
Behind him, Symon heard the sounds of the hunting pack getting closer. No time to pause. He ran out from th. . .
