They began to retrace their path into the moonlit forest, Sang in the lead holding one of Abhinatha's hands and Shirisha in the rear holding the other. From the moment their hands made contact, Shirisha could feel the warm energy enter her palm and spread up through her arm, emanating from her and fending off the encircling cold. Shirisha's fatigue hardly hindered her from the incredulity of holding hands with the lord of desires, and though the burden of the future remained heavy, she herself felt lightened if just a little.

The rest of the night passed in a somewhat comforted silence, and they managed to reach the edge of the forest just before daybreak. Climbing back up onto the long ridge, meek sunlight spilling over the horizon and a hard wind at their flank. Now illuminated, Shirisha truly noticed Abhinatha's tirelessness. She let out no labored breaths nor grunts of effort, and kept her eyes forward always.

This was the reason it had taken Sang and Shirisha so long to catch up: Their speed may have been far faster, but even while they rested for the night their target had kept moving. The imprint on the hill was merely a place where Abhinatha had tripped and fell, inevitably getting back up and moving forward with little reaction.

Sang broke off to go farther ahead, but Shirisha continued to hold Abhinatha's hand. She knew Abhinatha had been by herself for millennia, but regardless in this moment Shirisha wanted to assure her that she was not alone. It was in her nature. As they pressed back through the remains of the storm's havoc, a strong, steady snow began. Abhinatha scanned all of it silently but made no expression.

At long last they descended the other side of the ridge into the sparser forest. The river was not as brown as it once was, but chunks of ice had started to take the place of debris floating down its length. It was now colder than the depths of the previous winter, and Shirisha did not want to wonder about how far it could continue.

Sang drifted between trees in front of them, uncovering new layers of snow to trace their own tracks backwards through the forest. They grew closer and closer to the expanse of foothills, the trees thinning some, when Shirisha saw on her left the frozen, limp lash hanging from the tree.

She met eyes with Sang, and gestured towards the tree. He nodded in undrstanding. Breaking her hold from Abhinatha almost regrettably, she began to climb the stiffened lash. She neither heard nor saw any storms approaching, nor did she expect one, but they would not risk making the same mistake they did before. Small bolts of pain came from her hand as she climbed, the rawness which had not yet healed. The sky expanded before her, and she scanned the horizons. The east, where the previous storm had come, was clear. The north was clear. The west was clear. Turning to the south, where they were headed, Shirisha's heart chilled in the worst feeling of familiarity.

She climbed down with great haste just as before, but between the cold that bored into her and the rawness of her hands, she lost her grip and fell. She caught one of the branches hard on the ribs, and the stiff wood sent her spinning over land face first in the snow. A tight grimace formed on her face as she slowly lifted herself, side throbbing. Turning, she tried to warn Sang but her voice caught in her throat as she saw him. She stumbled towards him, snow falling off her body as she did.

Sang was kneeling and staring at the ground, the sure sign that he had found a track. Only this time, he was trembling subtly, and not from the cold. Abhinatha stood behind him, and turned her youthful face to Shirisha with concern.

"Are you hurt?" She asked in a soft voice.

"No."

Shirisha barely eked out a reply, the air still coming back into her lungs. She stood up straight and took a deep breath, and knelt down next to Sang, gently placing a hand on his. "What is it?" she asked.

Sang took a shaky breath. "I have seen these tracks only a handful of times in my whole life, yet I could never mistake them." He tried to hide the fear in his voice, but it bled through. "The bagha is here, and it is close. It must have followed the nilgai herd, and we traveled along their wake." His voice shifted to a commanding but almost worrisome tone.

"We must cross the hills immediately without stopping, if we are to have any chance of losing it."

He stood up and took powerful strides, not bothering to take more time and check tracks but trusting the direction they had led him thus far.

"Sang." she stated, and he stopped.

"When I climbed the tree just now, I saw a storm. It is worse than the last, and coming straight over the hills."

She recalled the foreboding appearance. Not only did it cover such a massive swath of land, it concealed the sky beyond with its incredible mass. It did not churn over itself like the other, nor was it as dark, but within it there seemed to be a swirling domain of chaos that was far worse.

"Damn it all." said Sang, deliberating.

"Shirisha, I regret to tell you this again, but we must go through. The forest is a bagha's dominion; it will attack us with ease. I do not doubt it has our scent as we speak. Let us go."

Shirisha also felt an unspoken pressure, images flashing in her head of the blood soaked face that was both mesmerizing and cruel. She took Abhinatha's hand, and pulled her along with a similar concern in her step. Shirisha heard the being's small voice behind her.

"The bagha... is that a beast?"

"Yes, and a terrible one." Shirisha answered. "It... killed his father."

"Oh."

Abhinatha's expression was unchanged, and she hesitated a moment before speaking again.

"I understand physical pain and the threat of harmful creatures, but I apologize, for the pain of losing one loved I can never understand."

Shirisha realized this and said nothing, feeling a sharp twinge of sympathy for the being that had sustained the world for generations.

Shortly thereafter they emerged through the treeline, seeing the vast waves of white hills before them and above it the encroaching blizzard. Already the wind was relentless, whipping across their bodies from all angles and blowing snow into their faces. Shirisha gripped Abhinatha's hand with conviction, concentrating only on keeping Sang within her sight.

They had not crossed four hills when the blizzard met them. It obscured the sky, and it became their world. Shirisha's flesh hurt from the piercing of the icy wind, contorted and swirled violently by a maelstrom that steadily limited more of their vision. She strained against these forces, and through the gray shadows she saw the darkened shape of Sang. Sang knew that their voices were futile in the wind's raging howl, checking behind him periodically to ensure the safety of the others.

They strained every fiber of their body against the low wall of snow and kept their balance in the maelstrom. Shirisha could feel Abhinatha's body lighten every once and again, realizing that without her hold she would be blown like a rag at the complete mercy of the storm. The warmth that once gave her a feeling of comfort was being pressed inward, strangled.

Shirisha knew pain, physical surface pain, but this was a new type of suffering. The very joints of her bones felt frozen together, and she could only move her fingers and toes like one on their deathbed. Genuine fear took her at the uncertainty of whether or not she could hold out, if she would become a stiff blue body buried under the snow, slowly stripped to the bone by whatever small creatures rose from the earth.

No. That was not a possibility. That was not allowed to be a possibility. It was up to her and Sang to ensure that their only home did not fade from the world. The trodden path, the great bonfire, the bonds that linked their spirits together must not be broken. She would not fail them.

With new vitality, she locked herself into a pace, ignoring the dozens of aches and pains that befell her. They would make it.

A shadow flashed through the snow on her left side.

Her heart stopped.

The shadow flashed again up ahead, and on her other side: a long, limber shape that meshed briefly against the gray that surrounded them.

It had found them.

She shouted to Sang up ahead, though she knew he could not hear her. Already he was rooted in place, for he had seen it.

Shirisha could not see it through the contorting white veil, but Sang was stricken by fear.

He was once more a child in the woods with his father, and a shadow had just flashed through the undergrowth. He saw the jade eyes reflecting in the night, the bared white claws, fangs sinking into blood. His muscles started locking, his body losing cohesion. He was too weak, he was...

No.

He had strength, and he had faced the creature before.

He recalled seeing its tracks in the mountain territory, fleeing the moment he saw them, simply wishing desperately it would not come near the village again. But when it had attacked Shirisha, a value rose far more powerful than fear. His father had possesed it, and gave his life because of it.

Now, Sang was the one who must protect, even if it meant his fate would be the same.

Sure of heart and mind, he hurried back to Shirisha and Abhinatha, stone dagger firmly in his grasp. He bent to Shirisha's ear, and spoke prominently over the whipping wind.

"Hold her close."

Shirisha wrapped both arms around Abhinatha, shielding her in the knowledge of what was about to happen.

Sang stood rooted with his blade in both hands, staring into the gray with a gaze of steel. This time, when the jade green eyes stared him back through the blizzard, he felt no fear.

The beasts' full body sundered into view. It bore the same three scars behind its ear, and a new long one at its waist. The broken shaft of an arrow was still lodged in its shoulder, an infected wound. Its body was rigid in rage and hunger, but Sang was ready. He let out a brutal scream, which reached the bagha's ears with its challenge and ferocity.

It sprang from the snow with a powerful blast, all claws and teeth exposed with the intent to kill. Sang met it with his own beastial force, barreling his shoulder into the bagha's chest while driving his dagger just under its claw. Its momentum was ripped away, the front half of the body falling over Sang while Shirisha pulled Abhinatha closer.

The bagha yowled incessantly with its weight on Sang, lashing with its back legs. One ripped down his thigh, leaving wide tears through the cloth and his flesh. Sang responded in a guttural grunt, savagely ripping the blade from the bagha's front leg. In a twisting motion he made a second slash up the ribcage, backing from under the side and regaining his stance.

Blood of both creatures spattered the snow, mixing together. Sang, fury rippling through him, did not allow the beast recover. He flipped the dagger in his hand, and bolted through the snow as if it were the fluff of clouds. The beast ran at him also, and they clashed again with great force.

The bagha took a colossal swipe with its uninjured paw, but Sang caught the claws along his blade and smashed a fist across its teeth, breaking a long fang in two. He was about to cut through the paw when the second one whipped upwards towards his flank. He retracted his free arm back down to his side at lightning speed, and the claws tore deep into his shoulder.

The other paw tore downwards, sending him reeling back. For a moment it appeared he lost balance, but he brought his foot back down on the bagha's paw in a crushing impact, launching himself back into the creature. The bagha roared in response, and the two unleashed upon each other hails of bloody wounds. A piece of Sang's hair was snagged and torn from his scalp, the arrow was ripped from the bagha's shoulder. Gashes and gores covered the bagha's underbelly, Sang's chest was clawed across and his ear was shredded by a near bite to the head.

Sang made a desperate thrust for the throat, but only grazed the side of the head, allowing the beast to launch its damaged fangs at Sang's neck. He dropped the dagger, and as Shirisha's terrified gaze was held, doubled back and caught the jaws in his hands. The pressure was incredible, ten times over the strongest he had ever fought against, but did not let up even as the teeth gored his hands. Frustrated, the bagha tore its mouth free and slammed Sang in his scored chest. He was knocked onto his back in the snow, faintly hearing Shirisha's cry as the beast of fire reared and came down upon him.

He had no weapon, and his hands could hardly curl in their radiant pain. The other wounds on his body had numbed, but still bled profusely. It was all he could do to raise his left arm across his face when the animal bit into it, hard. His bone was cracked and crushed with the force, but the bagha did not stop at that. It thrashed its head with its jaws clamped tight, plowing Sang's body back and forth across the snow before it flung him to the side in a crumpled heap.

His body felt like it was collapsing in on itself. His arm was gone, limp at his side. He knew for certain that he and his foe were both going to die, but the matter was of who died first.

The bagha turned to Shirisha with heavy, labored breaths. Blood fell to the snow from countless places on its body. She saw Sang on the ground, and held back her tears. Abhinatha was motionless, deep fear on her innocent face. Shirisha turned to her, holding her sides and screaming over the wind.

"Find the river, and follow it upstream. You will find them!"

With this she stood and splayed her arms, facing the animal while standing between it and Abhinatha. If she were to die, then she would die stalling the beast long enough for it to die of its own wounds.

It coiled back, but this time Shirisha's legs did not tremble. It leapt through the wild air, unleashing the rest of its ebbing vitality in its effort. Shirisha braced for extreme pain, and to fight as hard as she could with her own bare hands.

The outstretched claws streamed through the air, grasping for her face, but suddenly stopped just short. its long body became suddenly rigid in the air before it hit the ground.

Sang stood there behind the bagha, his remaining arm pulling tightly on its tail while the other flailed uselessly in the wind. He held his dagger in his teeth, eyes kindled. Rage possessed the remainder of his life, but Shirisha could see clearly that it came in no part revenge but from fierce protection of what he loved.

He launched himself off the bagha's hip, landing hard on its back and wrapping his remaining arm around its neck. The frenzied and dying beast thrashed about with insanity, but even as his own blood soaked the orange fur, Sang pierced it wildly over and over through the neck and head, the dagger locked in his teeth.

The bagha threw itself around in the storm as its flame was extinguished, finally collapsing with a moist thump into the snow. Sang rolled off onto his back, and facing the sky the dagger fell from his damaged jaw, several of his teeth broken.

Shirisha ran to him, falling by his side as tears fell down her face, tears which blew away and froze the moment they reached the air. She knew there was no saving him, and that they should soon move forward, but her sobs continued. The man who had given everything he had to correct his wrongdoings, who redeemed himself, would die far from his home without ever knowing their forgiveness.

Abhinatha crawled to them strenuously on all fours through the bloody snow. It took all the strength she had just to reach them, but something deep within her had sparked and alighted.

She had seen love before, parents of both animals and humans defending their own to the death, but she had never felt it. Here, seeing the brutality of two people facing the worst pain of their life all for her sake, she was filled with a new feeling. It was unlike anything she had felt in her thousands of years, yet it permeated through her whole being and controlled her will. It moved her, more than anything ever had. She did not know what, but somehow, in some way, she knew... there was something that she could do.

Shirisha did not notice when Abhinatha brought herself up to her knees on the opposite side of Sang; too stricken by grief. Abhinatha placed her hands on her legs, and closed her eyes.

Her skin began to glow, growing into a strong yellow light that shone through her hair and embedded itself within the petals of her dress. She was a beacon amidst the storm, purity amidst the chaos. Shirisha lifted an arm in front of her face and drew back some, captured in a state of awe in the light's glow. Her tears stopped.

From Abhinatha's dress, a single radiant petal detached and floated gracefully, uninhibited by the wind. Shirisha watched in absolute wonder as it alighted on Sang's chest, converging unto itself and melding into his skin.

Shirisha's eyes widened in pure disbelief, as Sang's wounds began to seal themselves, his ear restored, and his slow shallow breaths became more full. Suddenly, he jolted up, seizing with a new burst of life. He took massive breaths and shivered from the cold. He stared at his own two hands, feeling his body in just as much disbelief as Shirisha. His eyes fell on Abhinatha, her glow starting to fade.

Suddenly Abhinatha found herself wrapped in Shirisha's embrace, but this time it was not in protection but in gratitude. At first she was shocked, but then closed her eyes and accepted it.

"Thank you." Shirisha whispered into her ear. Sang bowed in deep respect, and said the same.

Even as they were held once again by Abhinatha's power, the storm did not fade. Sang thought for several seconds, then picked up his damaged dagger and began flaying the bagha with efficient expertise. It was bloody, and carried the smell of death, but it was warm.

Sang wrapped all of them together with Abhinatha in the center, and moving together, they passed through the storm.