The weather remained largely unchanged as they approached the Jarlonian Mountains. It was getting steadily cooler, the hills became larger, and the Mudokons traveled in a single line.
"Why couldn't we just take a train?" Drog grumbled.
Varg did not answer him, but it was obvious that no trains would run through those mountains. Tom seemed to be the only one smiling. In fact, he passed around Varg and was walking backwards.
"Guys, let's play a game!" he said.
Varg grumbled, "We could play tag with our weapons."
"I like Tag with our Weapons!" Drog shouted.
Tom shook his head. "I'll start with Drog. Drog! Tell us a scary story!"
Drog frowned.
"Mmmm. Okay." He thought for several moments. While Tom walked backwards, Varg seemed about to say something, but fell silent. Tom suddenly tripped over a rock and fell on his bottom with a grunt. "Oh yeah! I have the perfect story."
Tom got up again and the others tuned in to listen.
"Back when I was at Slig Barracks, I met a man I hope you guys never meet, ehehe." He paused for effect. "His name …. Is Dripik. General Dripik. He ran my Slig Barracks and makes Molluck the Glukkon seem like a pussycat. He's one of the most experienced generals out there and well, if you see him, he's probably the last thing you'll ever see."
Varg rolled his eyes. "Oh please," he said. "We dispatched six of his patrolmen."
"Those weren't his, target-boy. Those were our- er… Rupture Farms'. I recognized the leader, but I never told ya. His name's Grob and I'm kinda glad you got rid of him. But Dripik. Dripik… There's rumor he skins sligs alive if they fail at the barracks or Slaughter School."
"Personally?" Varg asked.
"You know," Tom mused, "I've heard they walk on their hands."
Tom stopped walking backwards. He walked beside Drog.
"It ain't just a rumor though," said Drog. "It's part of the reason I didn't eat much then. I saw him do it with my own two eyes. He had the sligs without their pants and hung up by their tails, and instead of using a machine to do it, he did it with a knife – and he didn't even use any anesthetic." Drog shivered. "And… and I heard them screaming.. I'm sure you've heard that… but it was nothing like a normal scream. It was the scariest thing I've ever heard."
"So he did it with one hand?" asked Tom. "Did he balance on the other?"
Vula thought for a moment, then said, "Did he do it naked?"
"Wow, he's multi-talented!" Tom piped in.
"Dammit, shut up!" Drog snarled. "You tell something scary then!"
Vula thought, then grinned and said, "Well, uh. I can pee standing up."
Her response was varied. Tom's face repeatedly changed from confused to amused, to disgusted. Varg had a curious look on his face, and Drog started laughing. Suzy snorted.
"What?!" she asked. "When you're hiding from a bunch of other Mudokons different equipment you have to adapt."
Tom chuckled. "It's a good thing you're not queen then. I don't know how anyone'd react to that."
Vula fell disturbingly silent. Tom sighed to himself.
"Okay, Varg?"
"No."
Varg forged ahead, tightening his jacket around his collar. By now the chill had become uncomfortable and the mountains were so close they engulfed the horizon.
"Let's get this over with," said Varg.
The mountains themselves were not that big, but traveling them was dangerous and during the winter the storms would grow so severe that no transportation could get through it.
The mood had just settled when Vula spotted something peculiar.
"What the heck is that?" She pointed at the creature.
It was not unlike a Meep, but it was larger, its wool more stringy, and its legs were a bit longer. It only had one eye, but included with it was a single horn that curved out from the top of its forehead. It stood, perched on a rocky outcrop, with several others around it.
"I think it's a Moat," said Tom. "I haven't seen one except in my books."
They reached the base of the first mountain, and were fortunate that there was a rather worn path that they could follow. It was largely encompassed in forest, so, to Drog's relief, they wouldn't get the best view when they got higher. At first, the going was easy. The hills, while steep, weren't too tiring, and they were going strong.
Drog found that his pants didn't particularly like the hills. If he had kept his old pair from Rupture Farms, he would've done fine. But well, that was life. Suzy was having the time of her life – literally. She was reacquainting herself with her ancestral nature, sniffing everything, marking trees, and rubbing her body against things, testing its texture.
The day wore on and the three of them stopped to eat their rations – consisting of peanut butter sandwiches. Vula quite enjoyed hers, and gave some to Suzy, who spent an hour thereafter flicking her tongue in and out of her mouth.
Slowly, but surely, things grew steadily worse. They were nearly at the top of their first mountain when it began to snow. Through the trees, they could feel the icy breath of wind and although the snow was not harsh, it sent a clear warning for Varg and the others.
"Listen," he said, "It's going to get very cold tonight. We'll have to make camp whenever the storm gets too severe, and start moving again when it's not, got me?"
Vula faced Varg squarely. "No problem, but only if we alternate the watch. And tonight, I've got first watch. That way you can get some sleep."
Her domineering stature and tone was enough to almost confuse Varg. He frowned.
"Fine," he said simply.
They didn't stop even after it grew dark, and the snow was beginning to stick. Suzy was already having trouble; she whimpered at the cold and Varg, in what must've been a fluke of kindness, draped one of his layered shirts over her back and tied it around her neck. That seemed to keep her more quiet.
The group stopped at last, when they came upon something that vaguely resembled a hollow inside of one of the cliffs. It took a bit to get to, because the path was narrow and below the ground was too steep to climb.
Once they gathered inside, Varg vanished and returned, shivering, with kindling. He was about to leave again, when Vula stopped him.
"We'll go," she said, gesturing to herself and Tom.
"Wait," said Tom, "Define 'we'." He frowned, taking a step away. "There's a lot of things out there for someone li-"
Vula grabbed his wrist. "Come ON! Don't be such an egg."
She dragged him, struggling, away and into the woods.
"Now," she said, once they were away. "Tell me the truth about Varg." She bent over and selected a nice, large branch.
Tom shook his head, grabbing most of the smaller ones. They'd burn up fast, but they were numerous.
He rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Vula, just ask him yourself."
"He's so lucky," she said. "Wish I was like him."
Tom huffed and once he'd loaded his arms with bricks, announced he was leaving and left her alone. She followed after him.
Varg already had a fire going when they returned. He didn't say anything to her. They eventually fell asleep, with Vula the only one awake, keeping watch. She spent her time trying to come up with a plan.
