They rested there for several hours, huddled tightly for warmth until the storm passed, opposing Sang's former desires. Gradually the storm clouds unfurled into a thin white sheet as if they were being flattened. Then both hail and rain ceased, leaving only the cold behind. If anything, it had grown even colder.

Sang arose first, pulling himself from his imprint in the soil when the sun finally shone through the veil. Shirisha was curled into a tight ball on the ground, shivering as she stood up. She had lost her pelt during the mudslide, and so she shared Sang's while they slept. Now, she was once again exposed to the elements.

Sang took a moment of consideration, and removed his own pelt from his shoulders, half caked in drying mud from when he was caught in its fierce grip. Shirsha watched with hesitance as he took his stone dagger, untied from the wooden shaft that had snapped in the storm, and began to slice it down the middle. He cut it steadily in a sawing motion until he had two separate halves, tossing one to Shirisha.

She was surprised by the act of kindness as she managed to catch it, but accepted it with a smile. Though it covered each of them to a lesser extent, it was far better than letting just one freeze. They climbed out with little difficulty; Shirisha was used to the grime by now and Sang had been accustomed to it for years.

As they walked back toward the ridge that produced many of the mudslides, they took in the full devastation. The sides of the ridge and much land along the river had been stripped bare of trees, with several weaker ones like the one they rested under felled by the only the wind. While making the climb back to the peak of the ridge, Shirisha noticed Sang scanning everywhere they passed and as far as he could see, but his eyes caught nothing.

Standing atop the ridge, they had a much clearer view. The river had turned an ugly shade of dark brown, still carrying the remnants of the life which once lay around it.

Wondering now what they should do, Shirisha spoke.

"Have you seen any signs of the trail?"

Sang closed his eyes in annoyance.

"Destroyed by the storm." he said concisely. Shirisha pursed her lips, for she feared as much.

"But," he said, opening his eyes, "We know their direction, and the river shows that direction well. We will stay on this ridge for as long as we are able, and hopefully we will pick it up again."

Shirisha felt a flutter of excitement, followed by hard realization. "We will not catch up by nightfall, though." she said regretfully, "We will have to wait for the next day."

Sang smiled. "Not if we travel into the night. We are rested. We will make the best time we can with daylight, and when night falls we stay close and push onward."

Shirisha reflected his smile and put a hand on his shoulder. "Onward then, to brave the darkness and whatever it may hold. For the village."

"For our people." said Sang.

The distance between the sun and the west horizon told they had little more than four hours of daylight left, taking on an increasingly orange hue. They made incredible pace until then, almost gliding along the top of the ridge which was cast half in light and half in shadow. More and more of the storm's destruction became apparent to them, seeing new ways in which the landscape had been warped. The whole time Sang searched the surroundings as best he could, but still found no signs of trail that survived.

Eventually, the signs of nature's wrath became less frequent, and the damage far less severe as they passed the edge of the storm's reach. Almost in unison with each other, the light faded with the damage. Shortly after they descended the ridge, which had become little more than a hill, the darkness enveloped them.

Shirisha halted, and sensing this, Sang did the same.

"Has there still been nothing?" she asked nervously, thinking of entering the depth of the dark forest with nothing yet to guide them through it.

"None," said Sang, "but if they are here the tracks will appear soon."

Shirisha acknowledged this but still fretted internally, secretly hoping desperately that they would have found at least something small before the night fell. She felt suddenly his calloused hand wrap around her own.

"Here. We will not risk getting seperated, but we will uphold the promise we made to the village, just as we said before. They may suffer one less day, if not for what we only believe could lie before us. Shirisha, have faith in me now as you always have, and as I always should have had in you."

Shirisha let out a breath and with it whatever fear had managed to fester, and in its place spilled in confidence. They walked forth, the snow laden trees welcoming them ominously back into their ranks. In a short time a faint half moon showed within what they could see of the sky, appearing almost as frigid as the air itself. Its scarce light scattered through the leaves and left dappling shadows on the ground.

A while longer passed, Shirisha feeling Sang's pace and matching it. She could hardly see Sang, much less tell what he was doing or what he was thinking, but had full faith in him regardless. Sang knew this without asking, and was concentrating all of his effort through his eyes. He was doing as he trained all his life to do, drawing on the memories of his father on that night. Tracking a target in darkness. Finding irregularity in a homogenous mass. Using nigh invisible rays of light to the utmost advantage. Feeling potential irregularities from the soles of his feet. Suddenly to his left, shadows glanced over one another, and one stuck out oddly from the others. He rushed over, surprising Shirisha, and confirmed what he had seen with touch. It was a piece of bark knocked loose with a slip of the foot, and though he could not tell quite as accurately without daylight, he knew it was recent.

"We are close!" Sang said, the words surging from his lips.

He pulled Shirisha along, who stumbled at first but quickly held her own alongside him, hands still locked. They held a light jog, Sang picking more and more tracks as he knew what to look for. They held this for several minutes, getting faster, when simultaneously they slowed to a stop. They had felt the same sensation. It had gotten warmer, if just a little. Both with their own thoughts said nothing of it and continued, the warmth growing stronger with their progress.

It surged around them now, seeming to push back and forth in a struggle with the hiemal night. It was only a few moments after when Sang heard it, and Shirisha a moment after. Footsteps, light and unsteady, moving ahead of them. Running as fast as their legs could carry them, they burst through the night, avoiding obstacles that would impede them with Sang's guidance. They ducked around a low hanging branch and barreled through a bush, and the two finally saw them. The barefoot person they had followed through winter's wrath, attempting to climb a rocky hill.

It was a small girl, her skin a pearly pale and her hair shifting in golden waves, her bare feet covered in all kinds of grime but oddly unscathed besides. However, the oddest thing about her by far was what she wore. It was a dress, made entirely from white flower petals blooming in their full vitality as they flowed down to her calves. Shirisha was almost mesmerized.

She had noticed the two burst out from behind her, and barely glancing back at them frantically tried to climb away.

"Wait!" Shirisha shouted, but the girl ignored, and Sang had already shifted into full action. He sprinted at her, bounding to the rocks that he traversed in seconds. Suddenly he caught up to the climbing girl, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist and leaping all the way back down to the soft earth. She let out a yell as they fell, Sang landing soundly and setting her down with ease.

Then, he became suddenly rigid, though still supporting the girl meekly as she huddled away in fear. Shirisha ran up to them, and looking into the child's fearful face her blood turned cold as the mountain ice. Surrounded by those fair features were pupils of the deepest cavern black, and irises of shining golden rivers.

The eyes of Abhinatha.