Hikaru stifled a sob. He couldn't even see Kijima's body, hidden by snow or the deer's corpse. He sank to his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs.
He had to hide. That thing would find him, too. He had to hide. He wiped the tears off his face and looked around. A fallen branch had made a natural lean-to, covered with snow and dead leaves. Hikaru crawled over to it, snow seeping through his leather gloves and soaking his breeches. It took endless ages to get inside, moving a single inch at a time for fear of the ramshackle covering falling and betraying his location.
Wet sucking sounds came from the clearing a short distance away. The hunter was eating. Hikaru trembled, sinking into the cluster of roots at the base of the tree, making himself as small as possible. His brain refused to turn off, scrolling hateful lyrics through his head already, turning the moment into a song of fury and loss. He rocked as much as he dared, pushing against his own mind with the tiny movement.
The sun began to set. Hikaru rocked still, but now from cold setting deep into his spine. He would not-could not-leave his space. Ren would find him. Ren was his hunter, the only one that mattered.
Ren did not find him.
Reader, thou hast slain our bard. The End.