11 September 2012

With Liz starting some stew over a fire of dry spruce sticks collected by Juni and nestled in a nearly snow-free depression at the base of a large tree, Einar crouched on his heels some distance away, trying to make sense of the situation and decide on their immediate course of action.  For one thing, he rather wished they didn’t have the fire and was reluctant to go near the thing, himself, but Liz had strongly insisted and really, he could hardly expect her to spend a night out with the little one, without some source of warmth.  Unless, of course, he had some reason to believe the fire’s presence put them in imminent danger of detection, and as he hadn’t been able to come up with a strong enough argument to that effect, she’d got her fire.

Well.  With the two women hard at work, Liz cooking and Juni running around in search of additional firewood, Einar figured he had no business sitting there doing nothing, and he rose, stumbling a bit but preventing a fall by pressing his arms against opposing trees, and went in search of a favorable location for a night of camping.  Not that he would be getting any sleep, not considering the situation, but perhaps Liz would.  She had, he saw, chosen the area reasonably well, a deep bed of pinecone remains revealed by the scraping away of bits of still-powdery snow which had been prevented from melting and soaking into the ground as of yet by the heavy cover overhead.  Would be a dry and fairly warm place to bed down, and he scratched out a spot for Liz and Will, figuring Juni could prepare her own and knowing that he, intending as he did to spend the entire night watching on the chance that the whole thing proved, after all, to be a trap of some sort, would be having little need of a bed.  Liz would probably object, want him to be warm and all that, but circumstances had changed rather drastically, and surely she must make some allowance for that.

Speaking of being warm, he was not at present, was in fact shaking so hard that it was becoming difficult to control his hands sufficiently to finish making Liz’s sleeping nest for the night, and he stood, pressing arms close to his body and making sure he was well hidden by a tree before letting the shaking try to warm him.  Wasn’t working.  He’d quite thoroughly used up his meager reserve of energy making the hike up to the overlook that morning and quite gone beyond it in dealing with the stranger in the basin, and now his body was left with little to draw upon, its efforts insufficient and he only grew colder standing there.  Stand there he must, however, for the spot slightly overlooked the basin and gave him the only clear view in the area of its white expanse, and though the enemy, if they were about, would probably approach either from the air or through heavier timber where detection would be much more difficult, he did find himself with a definite need to keep watch over the basin, itself.  Just to be sure nothing moved.  Besides which, he wanted to keep away from the women.  Liz could handle herself just fine, and this gave him an opportunity to observe Juni, make sure she demonstrated no hostile intent towards his little family.  That was what he told himself, anyway.  In reality, his motivations were largely based upon wanting to avoid having to answer any more of her questions.  Muninn--too shy of the new human presence to beg for stew fragments and intent on guarding the elk carcass, besides, was watching the basin and would, Einar knew, be the first to see and report anything untoward that might appear out in the snow.  Which was a good thing, for Liz was calling him, coming for him, and this time she did not appear inclined to accept his refusal.

“Stew’s almost ready.  How’s the bed coming along?”

Thought he’d answered--good, looking good, you picked a nice dry spot--but Liz was staring at him as if still awaiting a response and he attempted to repeat it, but suddenly was shaking so hard he couldn’t get the words out.  She had him by the arm, leading him.

“Let’s go to the fire.  Come on, supper’s almost ready and you haven’t sat down since this morning, I don’t think…”

There by the fire Einar tried very hard to conceal the shaking from Juni as he began thawing in its warmth, but to no avail.  She was watching him, her journalist’s curiosity clearly hard at work, and he looked away, hoping she would go back to talking with Liz, but there appeared little chance.

“What’s the matter?  Are you really still that cold?”

He shrugged.  “Not…so cold.  Winter in the high country.  Supposed to be…cold.  Not a problem.”

“It sure looks like a problem.”  She glanced at Liz as if wanting some backup, wanting her to step forward and do something, but Liz only shook her head as if to say, don’t bother.

“It’s because you’re so skinny, isn’t it?  You’d probably be freezing even if it were summer.  I though you were a little scrawny last time I saw you, but now…wow, what have you been living on, anyway?”

“Oh, we’ve got plenty.  Had plenty all winter.”

“You sure do have a healthy-looking baby boy here, so I believe you about having plenty.  What is it then?  Are you sick?”

“Nope.”

“I’m sorry.  Too many questions I know.  I am a journalist if you remember.  It’s what we do.  We ask questions.  But this isn’t an interview, and I’ll try to stop treating it like one.  Oh!  I’d love to do interviews with each of you about what it’s like to be living up here with a baby, the challenges of going it completely alone for something like that…what you see the future being like for your son, up here, but I guess there’s not much chance of that happening, is there?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

She turned to Liz.  “He sure is talkative, isn’t he?”

“Sometimes.”

Einar had plenty to say, actually, but most of it couldn’t be said in Juni’s presence, and he motioned Liz aside, asking Juni to tend the stew and moving some distance from the fire’s glow before sitting down on a snowy log and waiting for Liz to settle beside him, grave and serious and wanting to get some things talked out before the fire and food had their effect on him, and he began growing hopelessly sleepy.

“Well, we’ve got some things to decide, here.  Big decisions to make.”

Comments from 10 September

RememberGoliad said…

Reckon if it was Juni's presence in the area that gave Einar the heebie-jeebies the night he (almost) took off with Will?

A person doesn't necessarily have to consciously perceive another's presence. I've been in places where I thought I was miles from another biped, and got the willies.... a few minutes later I ran up on another person, neither of us knew the other was there.

Does anybody know what I'm talking about? Or am I just crazy?

Either way, Thanks for your dedication to this story!

Bill

Yes, I do indeed know what you’re talking about, and have had it happen many times.  I think we all “know” a lot more than we’re aware of, and can develop these skills, if we’ll just get in the habit of responding to the cues.  Hard to say how this works, whether the brain is putting together little clues that aren’t obvious enough to be recognized by our conscious minds, or what, but I sure have learned over the years never to ignore these sorts of warnings!

Anonymous said…

Bill
You’re not crazy. There is something there. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t have much of a handle on it, but it’s real. I know people who do have a fair handle on it, and I have seen it work. I have a friend who swears it saved his life in. I have seen the same guy replay the; “these aren’t the droids you’re looking for”; scene from Star Wars with a couple of game wardens. Oh ya, there is something there! 

Mike

Anonymous said…

That was supposed to read. "saved his life in Nam.”

Yeah, this setup unfortunately doesn’t have an “edit” feature for comments, which can be a hassle.  I sure do know what you mean though about this “other sense” that allows us to be aware of the presence of danger--or things that might represent danger--before it appears that we ought to be ablto pick up ontheir presence.

Anonymous said… 

FOTH

Boy are you on a roll! More excitement around the basin than we have seen in months. Thanks for sharing your considerable talent with us! 

I hope that’s an old fashioned film type camera, and even that would be dicey. No way in the world to tell if a digital was bugged without destroying it. Even a knife or a flint & steel or a food bar could be bugged Juni herself could be subcutaneously bugged; chip under the scalp, antenna that looks like a strand of hair? Much danger is facing the family, what is being taken on faith is way above the comfort level.

But my instincts are like Einar’s; her past actions have been straight up and honorable. Past acts are usually an indicator of future behavior. It would be nice if they could somehow turn this into a positive. They have lost the cabin for sure. But Einar is in no shape to make a big move right now. They could let her stay until Liz feeds Einar up and gets him into some sort of shape for the move. Then figure a way to part ways so that Juni does not know where they have gone.

Mike

Yes, the camera will be hard to prove safe, and almost certainly won’t be allowed to come with them.  And yes, any of the other items, or even Juni herself, could be bugged or tracked and a major threat to them.  It’s a very bad situation, and they have a lot of decisions to make, and in a hurry.



I’m leaving today and will be gone until the weekend, so no more chapters until then.

Thank you all for reading, and for the discussion!

10 September 2012

Setting aside his atlatl and pulling the pistol--he would have rather prevented their uninvited guest from discovering that they had firearms, that being a piece of intelligence that he did not at all want distributed to the wider world, but more important than protecting this information was bringing Liz, the baby and himself safely through the next few minutes--Einar stepped back towards the boulder where Liz crouched concealed, demanding that Juni stay where she was, get down on her knees, hands on her head.  Liz spoke softly, wary eyes on the woman.

“Who is she?  Skier?”

“No, reporter.  Seems to be alone but we got to find out.  Give me Will, and I’ll cover you while you search her.  Pack, clothes, body, everything.  We’re looking for anything electronic, anything that looks at all like it could be used for communication.  Quickly transferring Will to Einar’s parka, Liz slipped forward and stood carefully regarding the intruder, keeping well to the side in order to give Einar a clear shot, should he need it.

“Ok, get those snowshoes off, and toss them to the side.  Right.  Way over to the side.  Now.  Do you have any weapons?”

“A knife.  In the pack.”

“Take off your coat and spread it on the snow.”

She did.

“Now dump the pack on the coat.  Right.  Good.  Shake it.  Now turn it inside out so I can see.”

Juni complied, the meager contents of her pack rolling out onto the sleek white ermine of the coat, sheathed knife, wool sweater, two pairs of wool socks, spare hat and gloves, notebook and pens, insulated bivy sack and what looked, even to Liz, like a pitifully small amount of food in the form of energy bars and hard candy.  There was in addition a leather pouch which contained, when opened, flint and steel, some sort of tinder in a little bag--either milkweed down or cotton, Liz could not be sure from that distance--snare wire and a good coil of what appeared to be hand-made cordage, all packed in a small aluminum cooking pot.  The only additional item was a camera, carefully protected in two layers of plastic and, when Liz had her disassemble it right then and there, apparently a camera, and nothing more.  Liz then thoroughly inspected every item of Juni’s clothing before allowing her to put it back on, finding nothing to cause suspicion and hoping no electronic transponder or other device too small for her to easily detect might have been concealed amongst the ermine furs of the reporter’s coat…  Einar, possessed of a similar idea and a good deal more suspicion than Liz, insisted on inspecting the coat himself, tracing every seam and probing areas where the fur was thicker until he was satisfied that the coat was clean.  Tossing it back, he put away the pistol, ventured out from behind the boulder with Will, and stood beside Liz.

“Fine mess this is.”

Juni relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief as she slipped back into her coat.  “I really thought for a minute there you were going to do me in with one of those atlatl darts, just like I thought the first time!  Aren’t you going to introduce me to your family?”

Einar remained silent, but Liz slid Will, awake now, from his pouch on his father’s back, brushed the snow from a nearby fallen tree and sat down.  Hoped Einar would do the same, as she could see that he was struggling mightily to keep from toppling over after all the excitement and activity of the past hour, but he remained standing, watching, so she beckoned for Juni to sit beside her.

“I’m Liz, and this is our son, Snorri Willis.  We usually call him Will.”

“Will.  Will Asmundson.  That fits, alright.  I like it!  How old is he?”

“About four months.  He’ll be crawling soon.”

“I have a niece who just turned four months old…oh, there’s so much I want to ask you about your life up here, about the baby and…what do you call this coat?  It’s like what the Eskimos used, right?  Baby carrying coat?”

“Amauti.  Einar made it before Will was born, and yes, it’s an ancient Inuit design.  Helps keep the little one warm because he’s always right in against Mom’s back, and makes it easier to carry him and protect him from the weather.  I really don’t know how we’d have got through these last four months without it.”

Einar, meanwhile, was still standing straight and ready for action beside the boulder, glowering at the two women and the ease with which they seemed to be speaking to one another, on this, perhaps the most disastrous day of their life in the basin, the day they lost everything, and suddenly he had to get away, have a bit more space around him, and he went, quietly retreating behind the boulder, believing Juni posed no immediate threat and knowing Liz was more than able to take care of herself, should his assessment prove incorrect…    A bit of space between them now but still close enough that he could hear the women conversing, he finally allowed himself to sink down in the snow, entire body trembling, utterly exhausted after the events of the day.  Couldn’t let them see it, mustn’t, the thought of Juni, especially, having any idea just how marginal a hold he was maintaining on consciousness and probably on life itself just then seeming to him particularly threatening, and he resolved to be up on his feet again within the minute, ready to return to them and figure out what must be done.  After which he promptly fell into sleep, or unconsciousness, or some shadowy state between, but whatever it was he could not seem to get out of it, hard as he tried, and it was thus that Liz and Juni discovered him some minutes later, sprawled out in the snow and appearing quite dead, but for his shaking.

He was not dead, was not even asleep, really, had simply run out of the energy needed to stay on his feet, and when Liz stood over him he quickly opened his eyes, blinked, shook his head and rolled to his stomach--doggone it, now they’ve seen--making an effort to rise but not quite succeeding, ending up face down in the snow again.  Liz knew what he needed, hurried to fish the little container of honey out of her pack and give him some.  Einar almost refused, but when she whispered in his ear a reminder of his recent promise to her, he ate, and was immediately far more able to keep awake, move, and he rose, getting shakily to his feet but still appearing pretty distant, not quite aware.

Having seen it all before Liz was not terribly concerned, not outwardly at least, but Juni reacted differently, turning to Liz as if the situation were something of an emergency.  “Where do you live?  Surely you’ve got a shelter of some sort, especially with the baby…  I can  help you get him there.”

Liz had no intention of telling her, knew they had probably lost the cabin, anyway, with the close proximity of such an intruder, but was not about to go and finish the job before  its time.  “Oh, we camp here and there.  Right here will be fine, for tonight.  Right over in that next bunch of trees.”  Would have to be.  Einar clearly wasn’t going far before some serious rest and some food, and they certainly couldn’t risk going back in the direction of the cabin, anyway, with Juni there to potentially follow them…  The camp would be a bit sparse, a bit chilly, but she’d brought food, a cook pot, Will’s rabbitskin blanket and she and Einar had their parkas; they would make it.

Comments from 9 September

Anonymous said…

Goodness! How am I going to wait until the next installment???? 

Elsa

Thanks for reading--not long to wait, this time!

Philip said…

Elsa, that answer would be, S....L..O...W....L....Y 

possibly including sitting on Pins & Needles, Chris is good at that, though he ~Never~ supplies the Steel type Pins & Needles, often its just Bone Shards, and a How to do it DIY episode!!!!!

Philip

Philip, sometimes you just have to make do with whatever you’ve got!  :D

9 September 2012

It only went on for a second or two, that ill-timed cry, but that was enough, and the intruder had clearly heard.  Might, Einar could only hope, mistake the sound for that of an animal, baby porcupine or dying rabbit or some such, but instead the fur-clad interloper stopped stalk-still right out there in the open, and had he started out in the direction from which the cry had come, Einar was prepared to put a dart through his neck before he could get any closer.  But, he did not turn.  Kept still for a long moment right where he was, head up and gloved hand cupped behind an ear, and then he was moving again, previous course unaltered as he headed almost squarely for Einar’s position.  Einar could handle that, knew he had the advantage, being the one in the heavy concealment of the timber and he was about to slip away into the shadows, find a higher and even more secure spot from which to watch the intruder, when Will let out another cry, this one unmistakably human.

The man stopped, turned, took off in the direction of the sound, simultaneously throwing back the hood of his coat and it was not a man at all, but a woman, and Einar knew that tangled hair, almost dreadlocks, held back by a faded red bandana and going every which way once freed from the hood.  Had seen it before, and it took him a moment to remember where, but he remembered in time, lowered the atlatl.  The reporter.  One who had come up early on in the search, before Liz had been out there with him to stay, brought her photographer friend up to the abandoned mine where he was staying at the time, and interviewed him…  Kilgore had told him about the resulting articles.  Not typical media stuff, at all.  She’d let him tell his side of things, more or less, and had taken a lot of heat from the feds over it.  But what could she possibly be doing up in their basin, and what--the big question--was he to do about it?  Sure couldn’t let her walk up on Liz and Will like that, but neither did he particularly want to run her through with a dart and bury her in the snow, for surely others knew her location, and would come looking.  The other possibility, of course, was that she wasn’t alone at all, was there with the feds--not at all likely, after the way she’d skewered them in the press--or with a cameraman or other associate, and Einar knew he must proceed very carefully indeed, until all these things were determined.   First and most importantly though, she must be kept away from his family.  Getting quickly to his feet, he purposefully snapped a good-sized stick, drawing her attention.  When he spoke, it was just barely loud enough for her to hear.

“Stop right where you are, and get your hands up.  Right.  Good.  Now come towards me, real slow, hands on top of your head.  Keep moving.  Don’t you stop, not until I say.”

She was close now, close enough for Einar to plainly make out her face and confirm that the intruder was, indeed, none other than he had thought, and for some reason she had a big grin on her face, as if she did not at all recognize the danger.  Or perhaps she simply knew more than he about the situation, knew that he was about to fall victim to a dart or rocket or….  “Now stop.”  She did.

“I knew it!  You’re still out here, in ‘the wild!’  It’s me, Juni Melton.”

“I know who you are.  And you came to this particular spot because…”

“Because I wanted to experience winter in the high country.  See what it takes to live up here, day to day.  You could call it an experiment, of sorts.  And…”  no sense withholding the truth, or any part of it, not the way he was staring at her, seeing right through her with those spooky, ice-blue eyes…  “because it’s one place they never really thoroughly searched.  I got access to some confidential search documents…and this whole place was a big white box.  Unknown territory, Indian country, so to speak, and I figured if you were still out here, it would have to be in a place like this one.  I’ve already been to six of the seven other ‘white box’ areas around here.  This was the last one.”

Einar’s eyes narrowed, appraising, measuring her words.  Seemed to be telling the truth.  Which meant they were--and had been--in far greater danger than he’d known.  If a fledgling journalist from the city could figure out to map and search the areas that had been neglected over the course of many prior attempts, then so could the feds, and probably had, patterns discerned and noted, danger on the way.  Seemed Bud Kilgore might have, in his largely successful attempts to keep the focus of the search away from the basin and cabin, painted a large if partially invisible target on the place.  All it waited for was the right agent to come along and connect the dots, and things would get hot for them in a real hurry.  Kilgore had, in creating so many false leads, other areas from which he’d kept the focus of the search, done them a major favor, intending their home place to blend in and clearly succeeding--until now.  Well.  She wasn’t, so far as he knew, a fed, and did appear to have come alone, but her presence still warranted a tremendous amount of caution--and almost certainly spelled the end to their long months of peaceful existence at the cabin, too.

“You up here alone?”

“Yes, alone.”  She seemed to be telling the truth.  Had certainly been acting like someone who was on their own, never--not even when he’d ordered her forward with her hands raised--glancing around out of the corner of her eye for the companions who would be coming to rescue her, and he knew from experience and observation that a person will almost always do so, if in a similar situation with support nearby.  He believed her, but must be extremely cautious.  And must search her.

“What’s this?”  He indicated her coat, warm-looking and sleek with the white pets of several dozen small animals which he took to be ermine, but appearing quite home-made in design.

“Ermine.  I trapped them last winter, and I sewed the jacket.”

“You trapped them?  City-girl-journalism-major from San Francisco?”

“People can change.  And learn.”

“Huh.  Some can, I guess.”

“I spent last year traveling the country, going to one primitive skills gathering after another, and picking up skills.  I can even use an atlatl, now.  Took a deer with one, last year.  Here.  I’ll show you.”  She held out a hand for his atlatl, but Einar kept at a safe distance.

“No way, not now.  This isn’t gonna work at all, having you up here and me not knowing for sure if you’re really alone, or if maybe you’re working with the feds, them listening to all of this over the radio and just waiting to sweep in and pounce when you give the signal.  Now seeing as I’m the one with the atlatl at the moment, and I’ve got it aimed right at your ermine fur jacket and would just about as soon use it as not, how about you move real slow and steady over to that first bunch of trees, and around behind them.”

“What are you going to do?”

He glared, silent, and she went, Einar keeping a wary eye on the surrounding timbered ridges as he hurried across the open area after her.  Liz was waiting for them, Will asleep once more on her back after a quick meal and her bow ready for action as she crouched, mostly concealed behind a snow-topped boulder that rose black and icy amongst the little trees.  Einar nodded to her, I’ve got it, you can relax a little, and she lowered the bow, but did not entirely release its tension.

8 September 2012

The spot was perfect, backed up to the timber on one side where approach would be safe and quick escape an easy thing, tracks, if one was to leave any, mostly concealed beneath the heavy trees, and Einar had to admit it would have been one he’d likely have chosen, himself, had he been needing to scavenge a winterkill elk carcass for food while keeping concealed and leaving himself a safe way out of the area…  The intruder had not seen him, back turned, crouched over the remains of the elk with what Einar recognized as the single-minded intensity of a very hungry individual, hacking away at the frozen meat with a sharply fractured sliver of granite and not seeming to have much success.  Clad in what appeared to be a snowmobile suit, boots and fur jacket of some type--white, all of it; stealth had obviously been a consideration, the person appeared somewhat slight of stature, but it was difficult for Einar to be certain, crouched as they were.  He didn’t see any weapons, saw only snowshoes and a small daypack, in fact, white, also, set over some distance to the side, with what looked like perhaps a tarp-covered bedroll bound beneath it, but he knew better than to assume the intruder was unarmed--or alone; mustn’t use the pistol, except as a last resort--keeping the atlatl raised, ready as he eased his way back by a few steps.

Motioning for silence, Einar quickly retreated around the shoulder of snow, leading Liz into the nearest stand of stunted subalpine firs and crouching there with her, much to the dismay of Muninn, who set up a horrible scolding racket as he continued to circle the fallen elk.  Good, Einar said silently to himself, that’ll cover any sound we might make if Will gets tired of sitting and starts to whimper, or worse…  The child was, for the moment, fast asleep on his mother’s back, and Einar prayed that he might stay that way, at least until they figured out what they were doing, and took some action.  Liz still had little idea what had spooked him, knew better than to ask aloud when he had that strained, listening look about him, but watched him with silent, questing eyes, hoping somehow to determine whether the threat might be real…or simply a product of his mind, imagination and the exhaustion that she knew must be closely stalking him by that time.  Not that it would have been much less of a threat, in that case, but she did need to know which sort of threat might be facing them.

Einar saw the question in her eyes, leaned close and spoke in a low whisper, barely audible.  “Guy there behind the snow bank.  Going at the carcass.  Didn’t see me.”

“Alone?”

“Don’t know.  Looked like it, but…”

She nodded, glanced at the sleeping Will on her back.

“Yeah, I want the two of you out of here.  Got that one open area to cross before you’ll be back on the other side of the basin, and then it’s timber all the way.  I’ll stay right here and cover you, then work my way around for a better look.  At a better distance.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

He put a gentle hand on the warm hat of corded and crocheted mountain goat wool that protected Will from the chill breeze.  “You’ve got to.”

“Yes,”  and she went, moving silently across the hard snow, swiftly, stopping only when she had attained the dark safety of the timber and expecting all the way to hear gunshots, to look back and see that Einar had fallen to a dart or been rushed by some unseen force hiding in the nearby trees, elk carcass merely the bait designed to draw him in, draw them in, and it was with great relief that she looked back to see him still there, crouched exactly as she had left him, watching the open area with the pistol, ready to do battle on her behalf had any enemy shown his head.  Now, safe in the trees, Liz wished he might join her, leave the intruder, whoever he might be, to his own devices and come home safe, out of reach of whatever dangers lay out there.  But of course he did not come, had to know what, exactly, they might be, and she knew he was right in wanting to know, for should they return home without gaining more thorough intelligence on the matter, they would not safely be able to so much as have a fire to warm the place and cook by, and Einar, she knew, would stew over the potential threat down in the basin until it either drove him mad, or back out into the snow to look.  Or both.  Best settle the thing now, while she was, if not near enough to be of any actual assistance, at least within sight, and intending to remain so.  Just as long as Will could be kept quiet, which for the moment was not a concern, as he remained fast asleep.

Nodding to Liz to let her know he’d seen her reach safety--and meant for her to stay there--Einar started out across the open space, himself, moving swiftly and silently as he was able and keeping the high snowdrift bank always between himself and the elk carcass, one eye on the surrounding timbered ridges lest he miss some clue that they held additional enemy, and the other on Muninn, knowing the bird would tell him should the intruder rise and make a move.  Nothing, no glint of glass or metal from the ridges, no sign from the raven that anything had changed behind the snow bank and then he was in the timber, far below Liz’s position and to the north of it--didn’t want to draw any attention in that direction, should there be attention which could be drawn--breath coming hard and every sense alert for the slightest sound, motion, but there was only the wind.  Good.  Maybe he really is alone.  But can’t count on it, yet.  Got to have a better look.  To which end he began with painstaking care worming his way through the low, close tangle of firs which provided him concealment, wanting to see around the snowdrift and wishing he’d thought to bring the binoculars on this particular expedition.

Before Einar had quite worked his way around far enough to see the carcass, Muninn gave the warning he’d been looking for.  Tipping a wing and banking sharply sideways, the bird ended his circling and scolding, soaring off to the stand of timber in which Einar and Liz had first taken refuge after discovery of the intruder.  Einar watched, closely studying the bird’s actions, as nothing was visible, of yet, in the other direction.  Clearly, based on Muninn’s message, the intruder was on the move, and Einar moved, himself, more slowly than ever but still covering ground, not wanting to lose the man should he be traveling up into the timber behind his position.  Turned out not to be a concern, for instead of keeping to the timber as Einar would have expected an enemy scout to do, the man had taken off across the open area of the basin, heading more or less for his own position.  Not good.  Had he been seen?  No, surely not, for such a sighting would have inspired caution on the part of his adversary, and not the nonchalance, boldness or whatever it was allowing the intruder to waltz unprotected and unafraid out into the clearing surely meant that his presence was not suspected.  That, or the man was bait in a scheme designed to induce him to reveal his presence, planned, deliberate, no action taken until he was within range and perfectly positioned…and he would not be falling for it.  Unless he already had, of course, and was even then doing exactly as the enemy intended him to do, cooperating in his own demise.  The prospect got to him, nearly paralyzed him for a moment but that wouldn’t do, either, and then he was moving again, belly-crawling in the snow as he sought to be somewhere other than where the enemy, if they were out there, would have last sighted him.  Which might have worked quit well, had not Will just then awakened and taken vociferous objection to some aspect of his present existence before Liz was able to quiet him…

Comments from 7 September

Apple said…

he he nice cliff hanger lol

At least this one didn’t (directly) involve a real cliff!

Philip said…

Yes, Mr. Hanger has not made such an entrance in many a Post!

(Director):
"Mr. Hanger to the STAGE": Enter STAGE LEFT!

Nice work, Chris... now, as for ~what~ was there, remember Mike is in charge of E. Bunnies next Appearance!

That is, if he wishes too, & given our ~producer~ is off on a Journey somewhere's
philip

Don’t worry, I’ll leave The Further Adventures of E. Bunny to Mike--and yes, I do have another journey coming up here in not too many days, so the two of you will have your chance, then.   : )

Thanks for reading, and for your comments!