They stumbled outside into the light of early evening.

"How long have we slept?" Vilkas wondered.

"Just a few hours." Grunting, Leif lowered Farkas' prone body into a cart he and Athis had prepared earlier.

Letting go of Falka's support, Vilkas slouched against the cart's side. "Did you find the horses?"

"Horses?"

"Aye. The ones they set out on."

"We did not find any horses," Athis admitted, furrowing his brow. "But they'd be more than welcome. Leif? See if you can find them."

While they waited for Leif to return, Athis and Falka wrapped Farkas into blankets and furs, preparing him for the cold along the road. Out in the open air, the tang of the colour the Hagravens had painted Farkas with was less biting, but it still made Vilkas' head hurt. In order to distract himself, he cast a look around. The camp was empty, utterly deserted save for the Companions. The water was loud in his ears, ringing all the louder in the deserted canyon. Strange how less than two days earlier, it had thrived with activity. But then, somebody had made the mistake of taking his brother.

"It's empty," Leif reported upon his return. "It used to be a stable, but it's empty now."

"Seems we have to tow the cart ourselves after all," Athis sighed. "Vilkas? Will you manage?"

"Aye," the other man nodded through gritted teeth. "Red's spells and the potions did some good already."

"I saw a few potions back in one of the huts," Leif cut in.

"What kind of potions?" Falka's interest was piqued.

"Dunno," he shrugged, rubbing at a spot on his hand. "Of all sorts."

"Regeneration potions? Curing potions? Magika potions?"

"I guess so..."

"If what you say is true..." She paused, her eyes resting on Vilkas. She had pumped him full with their remaining curing potions, her restoration potions and had healed him as best as she could. For the moment, he was able to stand unaided, but hours of travelling lay before them. And she already felt sick from all the magika potions she she downed earlier. "Allright," she stated with a firm nod of her head. "We need those potions, there is no way around it. Leif, you lead the way. And you," she nodded at the other two men, "stay here, we will be back soon."

Purposeful, Leif started off towards one of the larger huts cowering against the rising cliff wall.

"And make sure to be ready to set off as soon as we are back!"

Vilkas and Athis watched until the door fell shut behind their backs. Falka, luckily enough, had recovered remarkably well from her ordeal. Watching her stride after Leif one would hardly guess what she had gone through the day before. Vilkas still noted the weariness in her composure, but with her almost back in form and Athis and Leif at their side, they might truly make it back to Whiterun in safety. Which left only Farkas to worry about. Farkas and the girl.

"Have you found Calla?" Vilkas asked into the setting silence.

Athis shook his head. "No." He sighed. "If she ever was here, she left no trace."

"I don't like this," Vilkas admitted.

"Yeah, you tell me. First Farkas, then you and Falka— I can't wait to get out of here before something else happens."

The first thing Falka noticed inside the hut she had followed Leif into was the smell. A heavy, earthen tang lay in the air, mixed with metallic undertones and some sharpness Falka couldn't place.

"Over here, Harbinger!"

Leif was standing in front of a cupboard filled with potions and poisons. Another cupboard was filled with ingredients, and an alchemist's table sat in between the two. Quickly, Falka scanned the small bottles arranged in neat rows. Most contained some poisons, but she managed to identify a few useful mixtures.

"Harbinger? There's a trapdoor hidden here."

Leif had pushed a small table to the side and was now inspecting a door in the floor below. "I wonder..." One determined pull, and the door was open. "There's a ladder leading down."

Falka came to stand next to him, looking down into the darkness below. The smell was different here. Stronger. It stank of illness and decay. A dreadful feeling flooded Falka's veins. With a sigh, she stepped onto the ladder and climbed down.

Once down in the room proper, Falka's hand described a simple gesture, tearing a little light from the ether. She focused on the small ball of energy, and it grew until it illuminated the area in blueish hues. Leif, who had come down behind her, drew in a sharp breath. The room was filled with three rows of beds. And each bed held a body.

"By the Divines!" Falka directed a little more energy into her spell, and the small globe of light floated further into the room.

"Eighteen," Leif counted. He stepped up to the bed nearest to them, leaning over it to closer inspect the body. "Who are these people?"

"The rest of the villagers," Falka mused. "The ones who did not die in the temple." She leant over another bed. Here was the little boy she'd seen the day before, playing hide and seek with his friend. Falka reached out, trailing her fingertips over his face. "He died last night. So young..." A small bottle made out of green glass sat at the bedside table. Looking up, Falka could see a similar bottle on the next bedside table, and on the next behind that, too. "Kyne have mercy."

Dazed, the two Companions drifted between the rows of beds, checking each one of them for a sign of the young Dunmer who had ridden out with Farkas.

"She's not here, Harbinger," Leif finally stated.

"No..." She shook herself, her thoughts returning from some far-away place. With a firm voice, she stated, "There is nothing here. Let us go." Before Falka followed Leif up the ladder, she turned around one last time and, taking a deep breath, she shouted fire across the abominable scene.

Night fell not long after their little convoy had finally left the Forsworn camp. Leif was pushing the cart carrying Farkas with Falka and Vilkas flanking it, and Athis brought up the rear. While they pulled out of the camp, Falka relayed their findings in halted tones.

"Together with the corpses Aela found in the caves and the ones who died through our hands—"

"They took Farkas, they almost got you, and we still don't know what happened to Calla," Vilkas interrupted her thoughts. "They had it coming."

Their going was slow. Twice, Farkas groaned in his trance, trashed around, then fell back into unconsciousness. Vilkas' limp grew worse, even though Falka had literally forced him to drink another of the potions she had brought from the hut before they set off. By the time Secunda showed, Vilkas was using the cart to carry his weight, making Leif's task ever so much harder. The boy staggered under the additional, ill-balanced weight.

Athis slowed his pace and fell back a few steps, casting a look around. One thing they did not need that night was an ambush. But everything was quiet, and the night lit by the light of the moons reflected off the snow.

Ahead, he could see Leif stumble under the strain. Athis furrowed his brow. Leif took another step, and another, but something was off.

As Athis watched, Leif staggered again, and fell.

"Leif!"

Falka was at his side in an instant. "By the gods, Leif!"

At a run, Athis closed the distance between them. He and Falka dragged Leif off the cart's side and placed him on the ground. Vilkas, still clutching the cart in support, was scanning their surroundings. He growled, a noise that instantly had Falka back on her feet and sword in hand. She, too, was staring at the darkness intently, poised, and ready to attack. Even though Vilkas had not drawn his huge sword – not even his dagger! – and he knew the other man was barely able to walk – let alone run – the sight of him made Athis' skin crawl.

"Vilkas?" Falka whispered under her breath.

Another growl escaped Vilkas' lips. With bared teeth, he slowly turned on the spot to take in all the surroundings. "We're alone," he finally stated in a rasping voice, so unlike his own. He turned to look at Athis, still kneeling at Leif's side. "Is he injured?"

"Not that I can see."

Falka sheathed her weapon and crouched down next to Athis. With expert hands, she checked his vital signs. "He is alive, but unconscious," she informed them, then went on to inspect the injuries on his face. "And he hurt himself during the fall."

"But why did he fall?" Vilkas inquired.

Athis shook his head. "No idea."

"Apart from the cuts on his face, he seems unharmed. But—" She bent closer, inhaling deeply. "Something smells strange… I am not sure, but—"

"By Ysmir!"

"What?"

"Check his arms, his face, his bare skin!"

"What for?"

"Colour."

Falka looked up at Vilkas. "What?"

"He's been carrying Farkas. Some of the colour must have rubbed off."

Calling a small light to her side, Falka again leant over Leif's body. "Yes, here it is," she nodded after some moments. She rubbed one finger against the speck and sniffed it. "The same colour as on Farkas' skin."

"Get if off your finger! Now!"

Hastily, Falka rubber her fingers with snow, then proceeded to wipe the smudge from Leif's bare skin. "I hope Vaermina is happy tonight," she growled. "Leif only got the tiniest amount of it, and it still knocked him out." She looked up at the two men watching her. "And for all we know, they have been dosing Farkas with this shit for days!"

Three pairs of eyes fell onto the prone form on the cart.

"He's covered in it head to toe," Athis mused. "Unbelievable he's still alive."

"Farkas' an ox," Vilkas tried to alleviate.

"So is Leif," Athis shot back. "And it only took a smudge for him to keel over."

"Farkas… must have some natural resistance to the colour, then."

"Vilkas, please." Athis turned to look at the other man. "I know what you are. What you all are. What has kept Farkas alive these last days. What drives Aela out at night. What..." he hesitated, shooting a quick glance in Falka's direction. "What has you two so mortally afraid of having a child." He caught the look that passed between Falka and Vilkas. "I know. And I'm still here to help, so don't insult me like this."

"You knew?"

"Aye. We've been living under the same roof for years, man. How could I not notice?"

In the following silence, Leif's groan sounded all the louder. He shifted in his sleep. Falka returned her attention back to the young man, patting his cheek. "Leif! Hey, Leif, can you hear me?" But he remained unconscious. Falka sat back on her haunches, looking between Athis and Vilkas. "There is no way we can move on, not like this. Not with Leif out cold and you barely able to walk. We have to get this stuff off your brother. And I do not think it wise to have Athis help here."

"So what's the plan, Red?"

She got up, cast a look around. "Athis, see if you can find us some shelter."

"Aye, Harbinger."

"Wait!" Vilkas called him back. "I think I smelled something like fire a little while back, where the road forked. Maybe a camp or something."

Athis nodded.

"And Athis?" Falka called after him. "Be careful. We need you."

Falka and Vilkas watched the man disappear down the road in silence.

"Athis knows," Vilkas eventually spoke.

Falka turned to face him, and found Vilkas staring at her. She nodded. "So he does." Despite the darkness, Falka's sensitive eyes could see the lines on Vilkas' face. Athis' implication hung between them, unspoken.

A low groan from Leif interrupted the silence, again reminding them of his presence.

Quickly, Falka reached out to place a finger on Vilkas' lips. "Not now," she pleaded.

"Aye." Vilkas closed his hand over hers, placing a brief kiss on her fingers. "Let's get him on the cart before he freezes to death."

Together, they shifted Farkas to make some space for Leif on the cart. It was no easy task and by the time they had moved Farkas to one side, Falka was panting heavily. Vilkas was clutching the cart's rail with both hands, his mind focused on staying upright.

"Here." Falka tossed him a potion.

Vilkas tore off the cap, gulping down the liquid with one draught.

"Better?"

"Mh, not yet."

She tossed him another bottle. "Drink."

Vilkas waited for Falka to open a bottle for herself as well. "What are we having, anyhow?"

"Fly Amanita, Mora Tapinella and Scaly Pholiota."

"Mushrooms..." He lifted his head, shot her a roughish grimace. "Did I miss the passage about poisoning in Riften?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Falka couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Maybe you did. Drink up, wolf, we have a task to complete."

They toasted another and drained the potions. Vilkas waited until Falka had turned back down towards Leif before attempting to take the few paces that separated him from where Leif lay on the ground, using the cart's rail as handhold. When he dropped to his knees next to Leif, Falka glanced up at him. The look on her face told him she was perfectly aware of what he had done, but she did not call him out on it. Instead, she grabbed Leif's torso, pulling him in an upright position. With Vilkas almost unable to stand, they ended rolling Leif up to the cart across Vilkas' shoulders. While Falka busied herself with distributing the blankets and furs between the two unconscious men, Vilkas used the cart to haul himself back onto his feet.

"Red," he interrupted her, reaching out to take her hands. Falka froze. "It will be okay," he whispered.

"You do not know that."

"Red." Vilkas tugged her her arm, pulling her closer.

"Help me get the colour off Farkas," she blocked his approach.

He could smell her distress, her anxiety, and it tasted bitter in his mouth. "Stop poisoning yourself."

Falka protested.

"You're not even wearing gloves," Vilkas insisted. "I'm already half-gone, you have to stay alert."

"Too late." She showed him her hands. "We will just have to hope the wolf blood will keep us both on our feet a little longer."

When Athis returned with a bald Imperial in tow, he found the pair rubbing the poisonous colour from Farkas' arms.

"Vilkas, you were right!" he greeted the two. A radiant smile curled his lips and elation lighted his steps. "There was an inn just a few strides away!"

"Thank the Divines," Falka sighed in relief. "This is good news."

"And you know what? The girl's there!"

"What?!"

"Calla?!"

"Aye, her," the Imperial nodded. "Found her some days ago, almost frozen to death."

"By Kyne!" Exhausted, Falka slumped against Vilkas' side. "That is more than I had ever hoped for!"

"That is good news indeed," Vilkas sighed, pulling Falka into a half-embrace in relief.

"They already have a hot fire going in the inn." Athis scrutinized the two. They were barely able to stand. Their bare hands were smeared with remains of the tainted colour. "Leontius and myself will take the cart, and you two follow behind," he decided. "Come on, we're almost there."

Note to self: Do not waste your time writing about Falka's and Vilkas' first kiss, finish "The Letter" first! Yes, even if it is a study in how steamy you can describe said kiss.