Disclaimer: I don't own any horses (any real ones; too poor to do it,
though I'd very much loved to) or the copyrights of any books, which
means...ta da! (Well yeah, you've already guessed what I was going to say...oh
well...I'll say it again...)
I Don't Own The Black... (Maybe they should just make a sign saying "PROPERTY OF WALTER AND STEVEN FARLEY!" and stick it on the Black, for the writers who forget their disclaimers...like me! sometimes... Just joking...)
Chapter 21
I stood on that cliff edge for hours, not knowing what to do, just feeling the despair washing over me in waves.
I'd gotten us this far, and now, I'd gotten her caught.
I had failed.
Worse of all, I'd let her down.
Moon was standing on that platform below, tethered to a post, and it was all my fault.
All this way, and now for nothing. Wasted.
My Fault!
MY FAULT!!
The word echoed around my mind, reminding me of what I wanted to forget.
The sky darkened and I stood there, not moving. The stars came out and I just stood there, not moving. The humans made their fires and pitched tents and laughed and joked among themselves and I stood there, doing nothing.
A bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth. I grounded my teeth together, giving way to the rising rage and guilt, and promised them I wouldn't let them get away with it.
All night, I stood there. Finally, when dawn came and the day broke, I moved away from that spot, going along the top, peering back every now and then.
I would have to do what I had in mind fast. Now that the humans had her, there was no reason for them not to pack up and just go away.
And I would never see Moon again.
Because I'd sworn not to go back. I'd sworn to myself that once I got away I would never let myself be captured again.
I'd go back home free. Or die trying.
The humans could go either way: back west, until they were out of the canyons, which was the shorter way, but the harder one.
Or they could follow this canyon, which would eventually lead them to Fleetfoot's meadow. The longer way, but the easier one, since once they got to the meadow, they could go south on level ground, not on rocks...
So, I had to stop them.
I backtracked. Retraced this canyon back East, back to the fork where we had gone right, and back, way back, until I found Spanning Bridge, which turned out to be nearer than I thought. We'd just missed a turn.
Oh if we hadn't missed that turn...
My throat closed at the thought of it. If we hadn't missed that turn, Moon wouldn't have been caught, and we would have been home by now.
All the carefully made plans, all those nights spent talking and arranging, everything we built it on had collapsed.
Sunrise. I stood at my end of the Spanning Bridge and gazed out over the canyons. Left and right, the canyon stretched away. Somewhere to my right, were Moon and the humans. To my left, I caught the barest glimpse of the high rock walls ending, and a vast open plain beginning.
Straight ahead was a mound of snow piled up on the Bridge. It rose high, up to my chest, the whole shining arch of it.
Dozens of tons of frozen water. Somehow, I had to get those chunks of ice down below.
I stepped out on the bridge. My hoofbeats were muffled by the thick snow, snow that had melted by day and frozen by night over and over and over again until it was a whole, hard, shining solid mass of white.
Small puffs of snow rose with every hoof I set down. Fresh snow. Snow that had fallen last night.
I glanced up at the sky. Tonight, it would snow more. It would snow a lot.
Tonight, there would be a snowstorm.
The wind nipped my ears and nose as it came and blew, howling, along the canyons. Freezing. Biting. Bitter cold.
I reached the middle of the bridge and stopped. Another possibility had occurred to me.
I could go home! They didn't have me, probably didn't want to catch me anyway. I could just walk away and leave them there, forget about the whole human world.
Leave everything behind. The meadow was within a day's distance. If I hurried, I could still get there before sunset.
Live my life the way I want to. Not have to fear human pursuit. Gather a herd without fearing their safety, as I know I would have to fear if Moon came with me, because coming along with her would be the humans trying to get her back. A constant plague to the foals. The herd in danger.
The idea sounded appealing.
Then I glanced back and knew I couldn't do it. Couldn't leave her behind, couldn't just walk away.
I turned my nose to the East, and began thinking of how I could get the snow rolling.
I couldn't just shove the snow off. It would take too long.
An avalanche. I needed an avalanche. Something that caused an avalanche, maybe.
I closed my eyes and thought back to when we were foals. Mother and Golden used to tell us stories of long treks past snow-heaped ridges, where everybody had to be quiet or there would be an avalanche.
Quiet was safe. Noisy caused avalanches.
Noisy. Noise. Sound.
Yes, that was it. Something loud enough o get an avalanche, yet not conspicuous enough to get the humans running this way.
I whinnied long and loud.
The echoes bounced back. And bounced some more.
My ears were ringing by the time it was quiet again.
Nothing.
I filled my lungs and whinnied again.
Nothing.
And drat! I couldn't risk rearing for fear of slipping down. Too bad.
That was another thing: the vibration. No running when near avalanche zones, unless you want to get buried alive.
I glanced down to the base of the Spanning Bridge.
Even though the top was wide, the space below the arch was smaller, because the sides/pillars/whatever you call them–supports?–were thicker.
Hmm.
Then again, the vibration idea might work.
I clopped down to the canyon floor.
And reared. And brought my hoofs crashing down on the thick walls.
Again. And again. And again.
That day, the stone canyon walls took a pounding they would never forget. Probably because nobody else did, or would ever do it again.
After a few times, my hooves were getting sore. I backed up, charged, and threw my shoulder against it instead.
I'd just backed up for the umpteenth time, ready to give up if this didn't work, ready to try one last time, when I paused.
Snow-dust was rising up around me.
An earthquake? But the ground wasn't shaking.
Must be the wind then, or maybe just my hooves. I shrugged it off and charged.
The rocky base grew bigger steadily. I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and hit it with my shoulder.
Wham!
Nothing.
I sighed and leaned against the rocky wall, the arch overhead casting me in shadow.
So this wasn't going to work. What was?
Wait. The snow dust was still there. Only now, it wasn't coming only from the ground, it was coming from above.
Above ?!?!
I glanced up and felt my eyes go wide.
Whinnying hadn't worked. Hitting the rock had.
In fact, hitting the rock walls worked good. Too good.
"Whoa..."
Hundreds of tons of rock-hard ice and snow seemed to fall in slow motion in a waterfall of icy death.
For a split second, I was frozen in place. Then, a voice inside my head screamed, "What are you standing there for? RUN!!"
I jerked back to life and plunged straight into a curtain of snow.
Run!!
Clumps of ice were hitting me, and I got what I called a snow-shower.
For a moment, all I saw was white. Then, I burst through the curtain and began running for my life.
The avalanche caught up with me in a few steps. It threw seemingly boulders of ice against my legs. My feet were knocked out from under me.
I fell.
The roaring didn't last long. In fact, a few seconds after I went down, everything was quiet again.
And now I had to get out.
Getting out was hard. I was almost lying on my side–which meant I couldn't kick my way free. Banging my head on the icy ceiling was a good option, but I wasn't too keen to try it.
In the end, I tried standing straight up–which worked pretty well, not counting the straining and heaving I did, and the bruises I got.
By the time I got up, I was shaking. And also looking like I was a snow magnet.
But it had worked.
I stood back and surveyed the place. Nice work. Maybe I could come back here and do that every year.
Stepped backward and heard a crunch. Looked down, and jumped aside immediately.
I'd stepped on a bone–or what appeared to be one. The rest of the skeleton showed up when I brushed away the snow with my hoof, and confirmed my guess–it was a horse skeleton. One of the skeletons I'd been telling Moon about.
And it was a small one–a foal's.
For a moment, I felt a wave of pity. Such a young horse with so much ahead of him/her, and possibly a good long life gone just because it had lost its' footing.
There could be more skeletons nearby. I covered it with snow again, bowed my head, and left.
Now the humans couldn't get away. I felt triumph.
Which meant we couldn't get away too.
Oops.
I hadn't thought of that before.
What if I did manage to get Moon? Which would prove to be a miracle.
But what if I did? Then we would have to go by the way of the mesas. Not straight ahead.
Which reduced the chances of getting away quick and increased the risk of being cornered and caught.
But I couldn't do anything about it now.
So, I started back to the humans.
By midnight, I was back the fires the humans made, glowing like beacons in the darkness to guide me. Only now, the platform was empty, and everybody – humans and horses – were down on the canyon floor.
Probably preparing for a easy getaway tomorrow. I seethed inside.
If they did manage to get away tomorrow, it wouldn't be easy. I would make sure of that.
I didn't go back to my perch high above them, where the fires were tiny smudges of light and Moon was but a pale shadow, but slunk around their camp instead, hiding in the shadows, slipping unseen, around and around and around their camp.
The humans slept in triangular fabric houses on steel sticks and poles. They made their fires in front. The horses were tied to a long horizontal post nailed to the ground. I heard the clinking of chains.
Moon was standing apart from all the others, tied to her own lone post, which stood upright a nice distance away. She was the only horse who wasn't wearing a blanket.
I waited till almost all the fires were out and the humans were asleep. Then I stepped light-footed through the snow, threading my way noiselessly in Moon's direction.
She'd been dozing. I whuffed in her ear and rubbed my nose against her shoulder. A long shudder ran through her body, making her mane and tail ripple silver in the quiet moonlight. Her eyes were half closed.
"Moon?"
Was she awake? I stepped back. It would be absolutely great if she woke up eyeball-to-eyeball with me, then woke up everybody else with her whinnies of surprise.
Her head nodded, her forelock falling over her eyes.
"I'm dreaming right? Yeah, I'm dreaming that I'm standing here tied to a post and that Spirit is standing before me and–yeowch!"
I'd just given her a sharp nip.
Her eyes sprang open. "You," she whispered.
I grinned. "Yeah, me."
"I thought I was never going to see you again!"
I rubbed cheeks with her. "What else do you expect from someone who gets you caught? And anyway, my conscience wouldn't have let me gotten away with it."
Someone stirred. We both stopped and glanced in the humans' direction. Immediately, Moon's teasing tone died down.
My relieved, half-joking spirit died down too.
I stepped back. "What do you know about them?"
"There are five humans. Four males, one female."
One female...that was...strange, I suppose...
"They have six horses and enough food and clothing to last them a long time. They really plan on getting you and me."
I ran the information past my mind. The last bit caught on.
"You and me?"
She nodded.
"Why?" It made no sense whatsoever. The part about them wanting to catch me too. I mean, of course, everybody would understand why they wanted Moon back; that was the reason they'd set out in the first place. But ME? Why me? To them, I was a perfectly strange horse, unless they knew I was also an escapee, of which the chances of them knowing are really slim. As in, negative zero percent, if there is such a thing. To the humans, maybe it looked like Moon had somehow gotten out of her paddock, and met up with me. I was just the horse who was traveling with her, not her former track-mate, not even a tame horse. They probably assumed I was just some young wild stallion reckless and ambitious enough to steal her away from her human owners. And they couldn't have thought of me as a racehorse, and certainly not the fastest horse in the world.
She shrugged. "All I know is, they're not even planning on leaving unless they get you too."
Uh huh. Okay...that would change everything...
"That's...strange...but you see anything else?"
"They're riding Quarter horses." She jerked her head toward the sleepers. "Spirit, there's something you should know about Quarter Horses. I've heard this from a few others, but Quarter Horses are strong, tough, and used to this kind of terrain. They're also fast. Very fast. They say," she hesitated, then went on in a disbelieving voice. "They say that some of the fastest Quarter Horses can outrun even a Thoroughbred."
I opened my mouth.
"But only for a quarter of a mile, which is how they got their name," she added hastily.
I was still having trouble digesting that Quarter Horses could outrun Thoroughbreds. "Wait 'til Steele hears that."
"And," Moon added, "these have been fed on oats. They would run...better...than we would normally do..."
My teeth clacked together. I let out a sigh. "Okay...I mean...wow...umm..."
Food wasn't the only question. "What about the humans? Are they...healthy? Cold? Strong? Good riders? Good with ropes?"
"Most of them have been riding all their lives."
"What about the horses? Are they...skittish? Easily spooked? Cougar- phobics?"
"Spirit, they're not going to get frightened that easily. I heard them talking about how those horses could be ridden right into a crowd of humans and they wouldn't even raise a hoof in protest. They're quiet, docile...do everything they're told to."
Talk about calm...
I glanced over my shoulder. Still dark. If we hurried, I could get her away, and we could make it up the mesa.
"How far can you go?"
She backed away and cantered in a circle, the rope between her and the post taut. "That much."
I leaned over and sank my teeth into the rope. Spat it out immediately.
"It's plastic. You can't bite through it. I've tried biting it myself"
But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that there had been a taste, a lingering smell of human. It had been familiar.
And worse, I couldn't remember where I had smelled it before.
The taste was still in my mouth. I scooped out a mouthful of snow and spat out again, rinsing away the slick, oily, foul smell.
Watching me, Moon came closer.
"Spirit. There's something else you should know."
I raised my head. Our noses were inches from each other's.
"He's here, Spirit."
"Who's here?"
"Him. Sims."
I Don't Own The Black... (Maybe they should just make a sign saying "PROPERTY OF WALTER AND STEVEN FARLEY!" and stick it on the Black, for the writers who forget their disclaimers...like me! sometimes... Just joking...)
Chapter 21
I stood on that cliff edge for hours, not knowing what to do, just feeling the despair washing over me in waves.
I'd gotten us this far, and now, I'd gotten her caught.
I had failed.
Worse of all, I'd let her down.
Moon was standing on that platform below, tethered to a post, and it was all my fault.
All this way, and now for nothing. Wasted.
My Fault!
MY FAULT!!
The word echoed around my mind, reminding me of what I wanted to forget.
The sky darkened and I stood there, not moving. The stars came out and I just stood there, not moving. The humans made their fires and pitched tents and laughed and joked among themselves and I stood there, doing nothing.
A bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth. I grounded my teeth together, giving way to the rising rage and guilt, and promised them I wouldn't let them get away with it.
All night, I stood there. Finally, when dawn came and the day broke, I moved away from that spot, going along the top, peering back every now and then.
I would have to do what I had in mind fast. Now that the humans had her, there was no reason for them not to pack up and just go away.
And I would never see Moon again.
Because I'd sworn not to go back. I'd sworn to myself that once I got away I would never let myself be captured again.
I'd go back home free. Or die trying.
The humans could go either way: back west, until they were out of the canyons, which was the shorter way, but the harder one.
Or they could follow this canyon, which would eventually lead them to Fleetfoot's meadow. The longer way, but the easier one, since once they got to the meadow, they could go south on level ground, not on rocks...
So, I had to stop them.
I backtracked. Retraced this canyon back East, back to the fork where we had gone right, and back, way back, until I found Spanning Bridge, which turned out to be nearer than I thought. We'd just missed a turn.
Oh if we hadn't missed that turn...
My throat closed at the thought of it. If we hadn't missed that turn, Moon wouldn't have been caught, and we would have been home by now.
All the carefully made plans, all those nights spent talking and arranging, everything we built it on had collapsed.
Sunrise. I stood at my end of the Spanning Bridge and gazed out over the canyons. Left and right, the canyon stretched away. Somewhere to my right, were Moon and the humans. To my left, I caught the barest glimpse of the high rock walls ending, and a vast open plain beginning.
Straight ahead was a mound of snow piled up on the Bridge. It rose high, up to my chest, the whole shining arch of it.
Dozens of tons of frozen water. Somehow, I had to get those chunks of ice down below.
I stepped out on the bridge. My hoofbeats were muffled by the thick snow, snow that had melted by day and frozen by night over and over and over again until it was a whole, hard, shining solid mass of white.
Small puffs of snow rose with every hoof I set down. Fresh snow. Snow that had fallen last night.
I glanced up at the sky. Tonight, it would snow more. It would snow a lot.
Tonight, there would be a snowstorm.
The wind nipped my ears and nose as it came and blew, howling, along the canyons. Freezing. Biting. Bitter cold.
I reached the middle of the bridge and stopped. Another possibility had occurred to me.
I could go home! They didn't have me, probably didn't want to catch me anyway. I could just walk away and leave them there, forget about the whole human world.
Leave everything behind. The meadow was within a day's distance. If I hurried, I could still get there before sunset.
Live my life the way I want to. Not have to fear human pursuit. Gather a herd without fearing their safety, as I know I would have to fear if Moon came with me, because coming along with her would be the humans trying to get her back. A constant plague to the foals. The herd in danger.
The idea sounded appealing.
Then I glanced back and knew I couldn't do it. Couldn't leave her behind, couldn't just walk away.
I turned my nose to the East, and began thinking of how I could get the snow rolling.
I couldn't just shove the snow off. It would take too long.
An avalanche. I needed an avalanche. Something that caused an avalanche, maybe.
I closed my eyes and thought back to when we were foals. Mother and Golden used to tell us stories of long treks past snow-heaped ridges, where everybody had to be quiet or there would be an avalanche.
Quiet was safe. Noisy caused avalanches.
Noisy. Noise. Sound.
Yes, that was it. Something loud enough o get an avalanche, yet not conspicuous enough to get the humans running this way.
I whinnied long and loud.
The echoes bounced back. And bounced some more.
My ears were ringing by the time it was quiet again.
Nothing.
I filled my lungs and whinnied again.
Nothing.
And drat! I couldn't risk rearing for fear of slipping down. Too bad.
That was another thing: the vibration. No running when near avalanche zones, unless you want to get buried alive.
I glanced down to the base of the Spanning Bridge.
Even though the top was wide, the space below the arch was smaller, because the sides/pillars/whatever you call them–supports?–were thicker.
Hmm.
Then again, the vibration idea might work.
I clopped down to the canyon floor.
And reared. And brought my hoofs crashing down on the thick walls.
Again. And again. And again.
That day, the stone canyon walls took a pounding they would never forget. Probably because nobody else did, or would ever do it again.
After a few times, my hooves were getting sore. I backed up, charged, and threw my shoulder against it instead.
I'd just backed up for the umpteenth time, ready to give up if this didn't work, ready to try one last time, when I paused.
Snow-dust was rising up around me.
An earthquake? But the ground wasn't shaking.
Must be the wind then, or maybe just my hooves. I shrugged it off and charged.
The rocky base grew bigger steadily. I lowered my head, closed my eyes, and hit it with my shoulder.
Wham!
Nothing.
I sighed and leaned against the rocky wall, the arch overhead casting me in shadow.
So this wasn't going to work. What was?
Wait. The snow dust was still there. Only now, it wasn't coming only from the ground, it was coming from above.
Above ?!?!
I glanced up and felt my eyes go wide.
Whinnying hadn't worked. Hitting the rock had.
In fact, hitting the rock walls worked good. Too good.
"Whoa..."
Hundreds of tons of rock-hard ice and snow seemed to fall in slow motion in a waterfall of icy death.
For a split second, I was frozen in place. Then, a voice inside my head screamed, "What are you standing there for? RUN!!"
I jerked back to life and plunged straight into a curtain of snow.
Run!!
Clumps of ice were hitting me, and I got what I called a snow-shower.
For a moment, all I saw was white. Then, I burst through the curtain and began running for my life.
The avalanche caught up with me in a few steps. It threw seemingly boulders of ice against my legs. My feet were knocked out from under me.
I fell.
The roaring didn't last long. In fact, a few seconds after I went down, everything was quiet again.
And now I had to get out.
Getting out was hard. I was almost lying on my side–which meant I couldn't kick my way free. Banging my head on the icy ceiling was a good option, but I wasn't too keen to try it.
In the end, I tried standing straight up–which worked pretty well, not counting the straining and heaving I did, and the bruises I got.
By the time I got up, I was shaking. And also looking like I was a snow magnet.
But it had worked.
I stood back and surveyed the place. Nice work. Maybe I could come back here and do that every year.
Stepped backward and heard a crunch. Looked down, and jumped aside immediately.
I'd stepped on a bone–or what appeared to be one. The rest of the skeleton showed up when I brushed away the snow with my hoof, and confirmed my guess–it was a horse skeleton. One of the skeletons I'd been telling Moon about.
And it was a small one–a foal's.
For a moment, I felt a wave of pity. Such a young horse with so much ahead of him/her, and possibly a good long life gone just because it had lost its' footing.
There could be more skeletons nearby. I covered it with snow again, bowed my head, and left.
Now the humans couldn't get away. I felt triumph.
Which meant we couldn't get away too.
Oops.
I hadn't thought of that before.
What if I did manage to get Moon? Which would prove to be a miracle.
But what if I did? Then we would have to go by the way of the mesas. Not straight ahead.
Which reduced the chances of getting away quick and increased the risk of being cornered and caught.
But I couldn't do anything about it now.
So, I started back to the humans.
By midnight, I was back the fires the humans made, glowing like beacons in the darkness to guide me. Only now, the platform was empty, and everybody – humans and horses – were down on the canyon floor.
Probably preparing for a easy getaway tomorrow. I seethed inside.
If they did manage to get away tomorrow, it wouldn't be easy. I would make sure of that.
I didn't go back to my perch high above them, where the fires were tiny smudges of light and Moon was but a pale shadow, but slunk around their camp instead, hiding in the shadows, slipping unseen, around and around and around their camp.
The humans slept in triangular fabric houses on steel sticks and poles. They made their fires in front. The horses were tied to a long horizontal post nailed to the ground. I heard the clinking of chains.
Moon was standing apart from all the others, tied to her own lone post, which stood upright a nice distance away. She was the only horse who wasn't wearing a blanket.
I waited till almost all the fires were out and the humans were asleep. Then I stepped light-footed through the snow, threading my way noiselessly in Moon's direction.
She'd been dozing. I whuffed in her ear and rubbed my nose against her shoulder. A long shudder ran through her body, making her mane and tail ripple silver in the quiet moonlight. Her eyes were half closed.
"Moon?"
Was she awake? I stepped back. It would be absolutely great if she woke up eyeball-to-eyeball with me, then woke up everybody else with her whinnies of surprise.
Her head nodded, her forelock falling over her eyes.
"I'm dreaming right? Yeah, I'm dreaming that I'm standing here tied to a post and that Spirit is standing before me and–yeowch!"
I'd just given her a sharp nip.
Her eyes sprang open. "You," she whispered.
I grinned. "Yeah, me."
"I thought I was never going to see you again!"
I rubbed cheeks with her. "What else do you expect from someone who gets you caught? And anyway, my conscience wouldn't have let me gotten away with it."
Someone stirred. We both stopped and glanced in the humans' direction. Immediately, Moon's teasing tone died down.
My relieved, half-joking spirit died down too.
I stepped back. "What do you know about them?"
"There are five humans. Four males, one female."
One female...that was...strange, I suppose...
"They have six horses and enough food and clothing to last them a long time. They really plan on getting you and me."
I ran the information past my mind. The last bit caught on.
"You and me?"
She nodded.
"Why?" It made no sense whatsoever. The part about them wanting to catch me too. I mean, of course, everybody would understand why they wanted Moon back; that was the reason they'd set out in the first place. But ME? Why me? To them, I was a perfectly strange horse, unless they knew I was also an escapee, of which the chances of them knowing are really slim. As in, negative zero percent, if there is such a thing. To the humans, maybe it looked like Moon had somehow gotten out of her paddock, and met up with me. I was just the horse who was traveling with her, not her former track-mate, not even a tame horse. They probably assumed I was just some young wild stallion reckless and ambitious enough to steal her away from her human owners. And they couldn't have thought of me as a racehorse, and certainly not the fastest horse in the world.
She shrugged. "All I know is, they're not even planning on leaving unless they get you too."
Uh huh. Okay...that would change everything...
"That's...strange...but you see anything else?"
"They're riding Quarter horses." She jerked her head toward the sleepers. "Spirit, there's something you should know about Quarter Horses. I've heard this from a few others, but Quarter Horses are strong, tough, and used to this kind of terrain. They're also fast. Very fast. They say," she hesitated, then went on in a disbelieving voice. "They say that some of the fastest Quarter Horses can outrun even a Thoroughbred."
I opened my mouth.
"But only for a quarter of a mile, which is how they got their name," she added hastily.
I was still having trouble digesting that Quarter Horses could outrun Thoroughbreds. "Wait 'til Steele hears that."
"And," Moon added, "these have been fed on oats. They would run...better...than we would normally do..."
My teeth clacked together. I let out a sigh. "Okay...I mean...wow...umm..."
Food wasn't the only question. "What about the humans? Are they...healthy? Cold? Strong? Good riders? Good with ropes?"
"Most of them have been riding all their lives."
"What about the horses? Are they...skittish? Easily spooked? Cougar- phobics?"
"Spirit, they're not going to get frightened that easily. I heard them talking about how those horses could be ridden right into a crowd of humans and they wouldn't even raise a hoof in protest. They're quiet, docile...do everything they're told to."
Talk about calm...
I glanced over my shoulder. Still dark. If we hurried, I could get her away, and we could make it up the mesa.
"How far can you go?"
She backed away and cantered in a circle, the rope between her and the post taut. "That much."
I leaned over and sank my teeth into the rope. Spat it out immediately.
"It's plastic. You can't bite through it. I've tried biting it myself"
But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that there had been a taste, a lingering smell of human. It had been familiar.
And worse, I couldn't remember where I had smelled it before.
The taste was still in my mouth. I scooped out a mouthful of snow and spat out again, rinsing away the slick, oily, foul smell.
Watching me, Moon came closer.
"Spirit. There's something else you should know."
I raised my head. Our noses were inches from each other's.
"He's here, Spirit."
"Who's here?"
"Him. Sims."