Raki turned to look at her one last time. There she stood tall and dignified; her silver eyes followed his progress as he walked away. Her face showed no emotion, but Raki knew she was hurting. The way she stood, the way her head tilted slightly to one side, and her eyes… yes, there was no mistaking the incredible agony held under the surface of those silver eyes. Raki knew he was just torturing himself, but he spared one last second and burned her face into his mind. Too long. He thought, jerking his head away from the beautiful figure I'm wasting her time. Moments later he was gone, dashing through the forest, away from the imminent danger and away from her. Clare. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them flow. The time for self-pity is over, he thought, I have to survive!
Aside from the clothing on his back, all Raki carried was a sword. He sprinted through the forest with it now, heading north-west. Narrowly avoiding a twisted root set in his path to trip him, Raki spotted the glistening surface of what he hoped was a stream. Water would lead to people, and he could find refuge there, if only for a short time. Approaching the stream, Raki was surprised he had not heard it before he saw it. It was very loud and rather big. Suddenly, Raki realized how thirsty he was, and knelt down to the water.
Almost immediately, he caught sight of his reflection in the slow-moving mountain stream. For a moment, he didn't recognize himself. The Raki in the reflection had bleeding cuts all over his face and body, his clothes were ripped, and tear stains made bloodless tracks down his face. His hair was a mess, dirt clotted the wounds and his pupils were dilated to the point of up-most creepiness. Raki reached to cup water in his hands to get rid of the image and relieve his thirst, only to realize he was still holding his blood-stained sword. Raki froze. His knuckles were white from clutching the sword for too long, and veins popped out on his arm from gripping it so hard. Slowly, Raki eased his grip and released the sword. Sharp pain shot through his joints in protest to being moved after keeping such an absolute position for so long. Raki blinked and brought water to his mouth slowly. I look like a crazy demon, he thought. No one in their right mind would help a boy who looks like this.
Quickly gulping down his fill of water, he splashed some cold mountain water on his face and winced. His wounds were throbbing, but he had to clean the blood and dirt away before they got infected. After scrubbing his face several times and still coming away with blood and dirt, Raki thought this isn't going to work. He stood from his crouch, every limb aching. He ignored the pain and stripped down. His stomach rumbled, but Raki ignored it. He didn't have any food and didn't have time to look for some.
Taking a deep breath, Raki stepped into the freezing water. The current was stronger than he expected, and he took a few uneven steps before finding his balance. His cuts screamed in protest at this new foreign substance, but after a moment their pain faded as he grew numb with the water. Working quickly, he scrubbed each cut clean and rinsed himself of dirt and filth. The water that fled down the stream suddenly had a pinkish tinge as his blood was scrubbed away. Quickly stepping out of the river, Raki jogged in place for several minutes to warm himself and keep the cold from settling in to something deeper and more dangerous than the average chill. As soon as he judged he was no longer in immediate danger of hypothermia, Raki knelt down to his clothes. Soaked in his own blood and torn in many places, they had certainly seen better days. Heaving a sigh, Raki plunged the clothes into the river and washed them too until all that remained of the blood was a pinkish river and that too, soon faded. Raki draped his dripping clothes over a branch to dry and once again examined his reflection. The blood and dirt had gone, but his wounds were still clearly visible, sliced open skin that was somewhat puffy and swollen. But other than that, his image closer resembled that of a young boy. Raki sat back slowly and started to think.
Despite himself, Raki started to think of Clare. What was she doing right now? Was she safe? Was she even alive? Raki's thoughts grew more frantic and without realizing it he found himself clutching his sword once again. No, Raki thought, I must not think like that. Clare made a promise to me! She's alive! I must keep my side of the promise as well. I'm alone in the wilderness and Clare is no longer here so I have to find my own way of surviving. Raki glanced up at the sun. With a start, he realized the sun was rapidly descending toward the west horizon. It's almost night. I must have been running for longer than I thought. Looking around, Raki grudgingly admitted that he would need to set up camp for the night. It was getting dark, and he couldn't risk continuing to move without injuring himself further in the dark. I need a fire. It's only going to get colder, and I can't keep running to warm myself. Plus it'll help my clothes dry faster.
Picking up his sword, he wandered a little ways away from the river and started gathering as many dry twigs and branches as he could. While picking up a particularly old and rotted branch, Raki found a clearing that would make a good camp for the night. He couldn't stay too close to the river; wild animals and possibly even yoma might come to drink from it at night. Setting his large bundle of branches down, he went back for his clothes. Raki approached the river carefully, moving slow and quiet. He spotted his clothes swaying softly on the low branch. He started forward only to freeze when something moved off to his left. Swinging his sword around, Raki turned toward the movement just in time to see a fox disappear in the underbrush. Still on edge, he stepped forward and grabbed his clothes. Raki was pleased to see that they were no longer soaking. Anxiously, Raki pulled on the damp clothes and moved to the clearing quickly and quietly. He'd been reckless and scared before, running like a mad man through the forest; and had no desire to bring any more attention to himself.
The sun was quickly disappearing and Raki quickened his pace to his soon-to-be camp. He was moving so quickly that Raki very nearly ran head-first into the Yoma. The Yoma had his back to Raki and was sniffing the pile of firewood Raki had made. Raki covered his mouth to keep a scream in and dived behind a thicket where the Yoma hopefully wouldn't see him. The moment Raki disappeared; the Yoma straightened and glanced around the clearing. The Yoma turned around and faced the direction in which Raki was hiding. Raki gripped his sword tighter. He knew he didn't have a prayer against a Yoma, but that didn't mean he wouldn't fight if the Yoma discovered him. The Yoma was muttering to himself. Raki strained to hear what the Yoma was saying. Finally he caught a few words, it sounded like the Yoma said "There's a human… smell… Claymore…probably a trap…leave…" The Yoma nodded to himself (Raki thought this was strange, it was such a human thing) The Yoma stepped forward and for a moment Raki thought he was leaving, but then he stopped at the thicket Raki was hiding behind. Tensing his muscles Raki prepared to run, or fight, whichever offered the most chance of success. The Yoma sniffed the air again and this time Raki heard everything the Yoma said. "There it is again. The smell of human. So delicious… I just want to rip the smell apart and feast on its owners guts." The Yoma took a deep breath and moved closer to the thicket. Any closer and Raki would be seen… The Yoma spoke to himself again: But… yes. There it is. The stink of a filthy Claymore. Think you can bait me using a human eh? Well I'm too smart for you, you disgusting half breed." And with that the Yoma really did leave. Raki stayed crouched in that position well after the sun was gone and the moon had risen. He kept expecting the Yoma to come back. It never did.