Golinod's eyes widened, his cat like pupils expanding as his quarry turned tail and jumped off the high banks of the river. "No!"

But it was too late for his forces. Golinod skidded to a halt, searching the rapids for the elusive cheetah, but he was nowhere to be found. The goblin bared his sharp teeth, enraged by his failure to kill the cheetah. With further examination of the river, however, he realized that the jump was a suicide. The pointy and widespread rocks that churned the water formed a deadly impasse, one that seemed impossible to survive.

Still, he and his grublins had traveled all this way with little time to rest, chased their quarry through difficult terrain, and suffered dozens of casualties, only to have their prey jump into the river like a coward. They had come all this way, only to have their thirst for blood unsatisfied.

Golinod turned around, noticing the exasperation on the grublin's faces. Their tiny brains had only begun to process what happened, and now that they were beginning to understand, it became obvious they were angry. They were worked into a lust for blood, and now, there was nothing to satisfy that lust. It was a dangerous situation.

The goblin commander sensed this, and knew he was in trouble. Trying to assert his leadership, he spoke to them, "We go back to the Catacombs. The cheetah is dead."

The simple orders sank in, but nobody moved. Golinod waited a few seconds, but when he saw that the grublins were just staring at him with their black, beady eyes, he grew more nervous. Trying to spur the grublins into action, he shouted in their own language, "What are you waiting for? I said go back!"

Some grublins near the front of the group hesitated, but turned around. Following the grublins in the front, the rest did the same, and began moving away from the edge of the river and back the way they came, but with noticeably much less vigor than they had arrived.

…

All sound dropped away with a whoosh as Hunter plunged into the abyss of water. Before he entered the water, he sucked in one last breath, filling his lungs with fresh air before he was lost to sight under the water.

Everything was cold and dark around him, but he could feel his body being pulled by the current. Suddenly, his back collided with the bottom of the river, coming in contact with the crossbow bolt in his shoulder blade. Bubbles erupted from his mouth, a soundless yell of panic and pain, but keeping his senses, he closed his mouth before any significant amounts of water flooded in. Feeble against the current, Hunter kicked his feet, trying to reach the surface, but an invisible force pulled him back down and dragged him across the rocky bottom of the river. Then, all of a sudden, his body shot to the surface, and his head broke free from the whitewater's deadly embrace. Taking the opportunity to breathe, Hunter inhaled sharply, while at the same time, taking a quick peek at his surroundings.

It was a calmer section of the river, although it still had a strong current. Treading water, Hunter looked over his shoulder at the scene behind him. A look of relief flashed on his features as he saw the smattering of boulders and rapids that raged behind him. Somehow, he made it past near certain death. Every breath he took was the result of a miracle.

And then, just as he began to give thanks, the rivers' current yanked him downriver. The water unpredictably turned violent again, foaming as it became shallower. Hunter had no time to process what was happening, only to have enough time to register the ear splitting boom of the river as it crashed into another pool of water… fifty meters below.

Frantic, Hunter tried to swim back against the river current with his good arm, but it was futile. The river was too strong to resist. Hunter A scream of terror was drowned out by the crashing of the waterfall as Hunter was launched over the edge, plummeting like a stone into the pool below.

…

Korrow's fast gait had been exchanged for a limp as he exhaustively moved toward the river. He coughed, clutching his lower abdomen with his hand as his breathing became more inconsistent. There was no way he could reach the river in time to help Hunter in his condition.

He slowed down to a lumbering jog, placing a hand on a pine tree beside him as his lungs screamed for oxygen. However, a grunt of pain escaped him as his body weight pressed down on his gashed leg, and he stood up, leaning on his good leg and hobbling through a slim opening in the trees. The young cheetah could hear the rush of the rapids, so close by, yet so far away. A salty tear dribbled out of his eye, a result of the fire in his leg, and his failure to help Hunter. He was helpless.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream rang out, barely audible over the constant boom of the high waters, but present nonetheless. Korrow's finely tuned sense of hearing picked it up before it ended abruptly, washed out by the rapids. Afraid, Korrow picked up his pace, making a valiant effort to walk forward while struggling to keep his balance.

Then, movement in the trees caught his eye. He turned, but felt his blood run cold at the smattering cacophony of feet against the leaves and twigs of the forest floor. Always a quick thinker, Korrow found a fallen tree a couple of meters in front of him and dove behind it, pressing the side of his face into the mud and stretching his legs out to keep them concealed behind the trunk of the tree.

The grublins did not see Korrow as they trekked through the muddy forest, lacking all of their former energy. The young cheetah peeked over the tree trunk, watching the grublins make their way slowly back through the woods, their weapons held lazily. Korrow didn't want to look any longer for risk of being seen, and popped back down behind the fallen tree.

He fought the tears that wanted to fall from his eyes. The grublins had gotten there first, and Hunter was undoubtedly killed.

Korrow did not want to see Hunter's body, hacked to ribbons by the grublins, but the young cheetah was determined to bury his friend regardless. Still, the thought gave him no comfort. He was truly alone in this world.

He would have let himself cry, had it not been for the noise of the grublins still present in the distance.

When the sound of their footsteps receded, Korrow peered over the tree again to make sure they were no longer there before he got back up, stumbling slightly on his bad leg.

The water's roar made it impossible to hear anything else when Korrow finally reached the river bank. Korrow scanned the bank of the river for Hunter's body, eyes still roving behind him in case some grublins still lingered. He searched, but Hunter was nowhere in sight.

It must be further upstream, the young cheetah reasoned. Testing his theory, he limped upriver, looking far ahead.

Korrow searched the riverside for several minutes, his efforts slowed considerably by his injured leg, which was bothering him now more than ever before. His teeth gritted together with frustration.

Hunter had to be here somewhere, thought Korrow. But where…?

Then, something unusual caught his eye, not too much further ahead. It was discoloration in the earth, a light brown blotch in the dark brown mud surrounding it. Korrow approached it, examining it with an inquisitive stare.

The discoloration was an indistinctly shaped depression in the mud, about ankle deep. Korrow groaned with sullen realization; Hunter's body had been right here, lying in this spot. The grublins caught up with Hunter, surrounded him, and killed him, and judging from the empty spot in the mud, took his body with them. Rage welled up inside the battered and exhausted cheetah at the thought of such a thing.

But, then again, something seemed amiss about the whole thing. Initially, Korrow couldn't quite put a finger on it…

Suddenly, he understood why. There was no blood on the ground where Hunter's body had been. If Hunter was killed by the grublins, there would definitely be blood at the scene.

He couldn't have been killed, then. Unless…

Korrow's eyes wandered to the river, roaring a short distance below where he stood. He groaned.

The grublins didn't kill Hunter. Hunter slipped and fell into the river. Korrow shook his head at his own stupidity. How did he not realize this sooner?

Now that he knew this, he started the long trek back downriver. The gash on his right leg screamed in protest, but he ignored it, fighting the pain. The young cheetah had even greater determination to find Hunter than before. It was unlikely that Hunter survived the rapids, but in the slim chance he did survive, Korrow needed to be there.

The sun was beginning to fall well below the noon level in the sky, shining on the right side of Korrow's face and making it hard to see across the river without blocking the sunlight with his hand. He glanced into the river. The frothing whitewater rapids subsided into a fast moving stream, aquamarine in color. Korrow scanned the river once again, but not surprisingly, there was still no sign of his friend in the water.

Further downstream, an immense booming noise was heard. It was quite sudden, arriving without any warning at all. Korrow squinted, lifting a paw over his eyes to block out the sun as he looked far downriver.

His mouth opened in shock at what he saw. There was a waterfall ahead, a big one.

Disregarding his injury, Korrow picked up the pace, putting more weight on his injured leg and jogging awkwardly until he neared the waterfall. When he was almost there, Korrow reduced his speed, approaching straight vertical cliffside. He leaned over, taking a look at what was below, unable to hear anything besides the furious whoosh of cascading water pounding the deep pool underneath it relentlessly. To his chagrin, much of the pool was not visible from his vantage point, so he could not tell if Hunter was there.

Knowing what he had to do, Korrow gulped. Without a doubt, Hunter had fallen off of this waterfall. One way or another, Korrow was going to have to climb down the side of the cliff if he was going to reach the base of the falls, not only in order to find Hunter, but also, so he could find a place in the river that wouldn't drag him away with the current so he could cross.

It was going to be a lot of trouble getting there, though…

Steeling his nerves for the task ahead of him, Korrow started to analyze the ledge for potential footholds. Reaching the bottom of the waterfall was a feat that was going to take some time beforehand to find the best possible route down, the young cheetah knew. One of the worst things that could happen while climbing was to be stranded at a dead end.

Luckily, there appeared to be an abundance of footholds. Korrow nodded his head, pleased.

This should be easy enough, thought Korrow. But, when taking into account the wide cut on his leg, he knew deep down that it was going to be a very risky descent. However, it was a risk he was going to take. He had no other options to choose from.

Korrow took a deep breath, re-mapping out the path he was going to take down the cliff. The cheetah had some experience with climbing in the past, but nothing of this magnitude. One fall, and he was done for.

Trying not think about how high up he was, Korrow turned about, edging his footpaws over the edge of the precipice while sliding carefully on his belly, most of his body weight placed on his left side. Gradually, he slid over the cliff, gripping onto the rocky edge with both paws while feeling around for his first foothold. When his left paw grazed the rock, he gently let himself push down onto it, testing its strength. It didn't give, so Korrow trusted it to support his body weight, standing on it with his left leg while letting his bad leg dangle. Hanging onto the edge for dear life, Korrow found another place to put his left paw. Cautious, he reached down to grab it.

Very steadily, Korrow descended down the face of the cliff, taking care to use his good leg to support most of his weight. Finding a crack in the rock under him, Korrow placed his left footpaw into the slit gingerly, and then shuffled down a bit more by setting his right foot onto a boulder that stuck out of the cliff.

It was slow going, but eventually, the painstaking climbing method brought him halfway down the cliffside . But, just as he was beginning to get the hang of it, a new dilemma presented itself; he couldn't find another foothold.

Keeping as calm as he could, Korrow surveyed the cliff for any other footholds he could reach from where he was, but nothing came into view. Fear entered his senses, and he gritted his teeth with frustration and annoyance. There had to be another way to get down…

Since he couldn't find anything underneath him to use, Korrow looked to both of his sides. To his right, a big crevice presented itself, but it was well out of arm's reach. Beside the crevice, the young cheetah could discern a way to make it further over, and possible over to a place where he could move further down the cliff. The climb looked treacherous, but it was the only way.

In order to make it to the first crevice, Korrow needed to pull himself back up the cliff and put his paws into the crevice while still maintaining at least one foothold. For someone already as tired as he was, it was a daunting task.

He tensed the muscles in his left leg, preparing to push himself up with it, while at the same time, pulling the rest of his frame high enough so he could stick his right paw into the crevice.

With a shout, he pushed himself up with his left leg, reaching out desperately for the crevice, but his hand missed its target, and he fell back down to where he was. But, as his left footpaw slammed back down onto the rock which served as his foothold, it slipped from the force of the impact, and he cried out in shock, leaning back involuntarily and nearly falling down with the momentum.

Sharp pain exploded in Korrow's bad leg, which was now supporting all of his body weight. Howls of anguish rang out over the sound of the waterfall. Korrow nearly went insane from the pain, on the verge of complete panic, but somehow, even though the horrendous fire blazed in his leg, the young cheetah kept mental focus.

Screaming in agony, Korrow pushed up on his remaining foothold with his injured leg, jaw tightening in an effort to fight the brutal pain that shot up his leg like a lance.

Finally, his body became level with the cliffside, and he found his old foothold, not hesitating to put his left footpaw back down onto it.

Hot tears sprang from the young cheetah's eyes, temporarily blurring his vision. Unable to wipe them away, Korrow let them course down his cheeks, shuddering violently.

Salty tears were indistinguishable with the sweat pouring down his face. He stood at that spot, rooted in place as he cried and sobbed. The pain was excruciating, but after several minutes, the flame grew less intense, and Korrow was able to think clearly again.

Weakened and fatigued, Korrow pressed his torso against the rock wall, breathing heavily. There was no way he would be able to bare any more pain like that, he determined with a rueful grimace. Nevertheless, the desire to finish what he had started commanded him onto greater efforts, and this time, he wasn't going to let his footpaw slip.

Fearful, Korrow readied himself for another grueling try at reaching the crack in the rock. Assuring his left footpaw was firmly in place on the tiny boulder this time, Korrow reached upward with his right paw while thrusting upward with his left leg, leaving only his left paw left on the cliff.

The second Korrow's right paw slipped into the crack, sharp claws latched deeply into the rock, establishing a sufficient grasp in order to pull himself up. Korrow's legs dangled precariously, hanging only by his two paws on the cliff.

Inhaling and exhaling rapidly, Korrow spied the next place to set his right paw, and taking a huge risk, the young cheetah howled in exertion, letting go of the cliff with his left paw and hastily setting it into the wide crack.

Now, he had to shuffle his paws over to the right until the other pawhold was within reach. Hanging on for his life, the young cheetah slid his right paw down the crevice horizontally, and followed after it with his left until his right paw reached the end of the crack.

To his annoyance, Korrow could tell that the other pawhold was slightly out of reach. He rolled his eyes.

Arms ever tired, Korrow realized he had little time to spare. Losing grip would equate instant death at this height.

Developing a plan of action, Korrow slid his left paw down until it was touching his right, and he eyed his target with intense concentration, and set his right hand free from the crevice.

For a brief time, he hung by only one arm, the rest of his body weight dragging him down hazardously. Without the slightest pause, Korrow swung like a pendulum over to the rock that jutted out of the cliff, slapping his right paw hard onto the top of it with an audible smack!

A grunt escaped his lungs as he performed the dangerous maneuver. But he wasn't out of the woods just yet. He couldn't hold onto the wall just using his hands forever, and if he was going to get down this cliff in in relative safety, he was going to need to find a place to rest his footpaws, and fast.

Using great caution, Korrow kept climbing to the right, unable to see any places for his footpaws to rest. Both shoulders ached considerably from hanging so long, and Korrow's situation grew even more dire.

Then, in perfect time, it came into view; a little tree to the right and beneath him, protruding out of the cliff. He sighed with relief for the time being.

Only a minute later, Korrow was directly above the tree. Testing its sturdiness, Korrow tapped it with his left footpaw, the arm-width trunk of the tree shaking gently and rustling the green leaves a bit before becoming still again. Satisfied, Korrow gradually pressed down, the little tree proving its ability to hold him up.

There, Korrow stood awkwardly, holding his arms straight above his head, claws scratching the layered rock and holding it tightly.

After a short break, Korrow resumed his downward climb. The ground no longer looked so far away, and it seemed Korrow would make it to the bottom without any further complications.

However, misfortune seemed to be the recurring theme of the day, and before he knew it, Korrow discovered himself at another dead end without any way of getting down. The cliff became inexplicably smooth at the very bottom, and thus, lacked any sort of foothold. The cheetah cursed under his breath.

Assessing the newfound problem brought Korrow no solutions, save one. The only way left down was to fall.

The notion was almost inconceivable to Korrow, but desperate situations called for desperate measures. And, as a somewhat comforting thought, Korrow judged the distance to only be around ten meters in height. But, it was a long drop nonetheless, one that might very well crack a few ribs rib or break a bone, and if that happened… the thought made his head swim.

Korrow glanced down, feeling more and more uneasy about falling down, especially since his leg would need to take some of the force of the landing to prevent breaking his only remaining good leg. It was impossible to shake the memory of the pain he experienced further up the cliff when he had slipped. The landing here would be a jarring impact to his calf muscles, and without a doubt, it would hurt like the fires of hell.

Mustering all of his courage that remained, Korrow closed his eyes for one moment, the released his hold on the cliff, going into a freefall.

Not even the waterfall could drown out the ear splitting scream of anguish that ripped out of Korrow's dry throat, echoing around the rock face.

The young cheetah went silent, save for the gasping sobs that racked his battered body, both of his paws clutching the injured leg in a feeble attempt to ease the pain, but to no avail.

The sun was setting in the horizon, its reddish flame blocked by the cliff, casting a long, dark shadow over Korrow, who lay on the ground, rocking from side to side while blood oozed over the paws that held his leg still.

He could not get up, and even if he could, he didn't want to. The idea of suffering more than he already was right now by moving was not an action he was willing to take. Korrow's chin buried itself into his chest, and he hissed from between clenched teeth as his leg throbbed. When he took a peek at the wound, it was plain to see that it was greater in severity than before due to its constant aggravation and lack of time received to heal.

All Korrow wanted to do was lie down in the mud until the following morning, to rest his leg and to sleep. But the young cheetah still remembered why he had climbed down the cliff in the first place; Hunter was still missing.

Obligation to save his friend was the only thing left driving him onward. Korrow, resisting the temptation to sleep, made the agonizing decision to get back up, clumsily stumbling onto his strong leg and pushing himself up with both paws. He winced, his right leg dragging behind him.

Korrow limped wearily toward the unmistakable sound of the river and waterfall, groaning and bearing the pain as best as he could.

It was a matter of minutes to reach the river, which was only several meters away, due to his sluggish limp. The clear pool of water at the base of the falls was now fully visible on all sides, no longer concealed by the treetops, but Hunter was not anywhere to be seen. Korrow clenched his fists out of anger and frustration. Even if Hunter survived the rapids and falls, by the time Korrow found him, his friend would likely be dead.

Looking at the crystal clear pool of water suddenly reminded Korrow of his immense thirst. Taking a couple of long, limping strides to the pool, Korrow shuffled onto his left side, lowering himself down far enough to reach the water, and the cheetah drank, slurping water noisily out of his cupped paws. As soon as he had finished drinking, another idea formed in his brain. Sliding his leg toward the river, Korrow dipped his right leg into the cold pool, flinching as the stinging sensation traveled up his leg before being numbed by the chilly waters. Blood, mud, and dirt were washed downstream, cleaning his wound and providing it with a bit of the care it needed so badly.

Korrow, despite being pushed to his limits, acknowledged that he could not stay here for long. After a fleeting minute of coveted rest, the battered cheetah arose, biting his lip while his leg cried out against him, begging for more of the river's cooling touch. He pretended not to hear the cry and limped laboriously downstream, taking in his surroundings and searching the shallow, calmer waters of the widening river for Hunter.

Something odd caught his eye, along the edge of the far bank. It was a smooth, wooden rod, broken in half and bobbing up and down in the river current, strangely resisting the current. Upon closer inspection, Korrow faintly saw the string connecting both pieces together, looped around a stone that poked out of the surface of the water and stopping the smooth, wooden rods from drifting away.

The recognition of this object made Korrow's heart rise into his throat. That wasn't just a stick and string; it was the remains of Hunter's longbow.

So, if the longbow was here, that meant Hunter had to be farther downriver. Spurred on by the discouraging evidence, Korrow proceeded along the current, glad that the river was showing signs of slowing down as it grew broader. Perhaps Hunter…or his corpse… had washed up onto one of the banks. If that was true, Korrow hoped he would be on his side of the river, because in his poor condition, there wouldn't be a way to make it to the other side.

For almost an hour, Korrow limped, the sunlight diminishing until the moon became visible in the approaching night sky. The evening was almost over, and Korrow was losing precious light. Infuriated by his limp, which was slowing him down and stealing valuable time away from him, Korrow hatched another idea.

He whipped out his longbow and held it in his left hand, stabbing it into the mud. It bent, the wood flexible with use and age, but it would have to do for now. The young cheetah's impromptu walking stick relieved him from some of the hurt his leg was causing him, and increasing the speed of each painstaking step.

The golden glow of the sun's radiance reflecting off the sky was nearly gone, and the moon, eager to take the sun's place, shone even brighter in the star speckled sky. At the very least, the moon made it still possible to see in the dreary forest. For the first time that day, Korrow gave thanks that for once, something didn't go horrible wrong.

But the feeling was short-lived when the life of a friend was at stake, and gratitude abruptly transformed into a bitter feeling of hopelessness and doubt that Hunter may still be alive. In fact, when thinking about the probability that Korrow may run himself into the ground, only to find that his nagging doubts had been confirmed, almost took away his desire to try altogether.

Korrow, however, was rudely awakened from his despair. Out of the blue, his footpaw stepped into a sloshy, ankle high puddle of water. Startled by the cold temperature of the water lapping against his leg, Korrow took a closer look at where he was.

The river, as a result of the rainwater pouring into it, had overflowed its banks and created a swamp like terrain, flooding a small portion of the forest.

Now, there was a faint glimmer of hope in Korrow's reddish eyes. The possibility of finding Hunter in this flooded terrain was worth the time it took to search, he reasoned.

Korrow looked closely around the flooded expanse, water sloshing around his ankles. The trees blocked out the moon, shrouding the swamp in a thick cloud of darkness. Korrow could barely see anything as he stepped away from the riverside. If Hunter was actually here, Korrow would still have a hard time finding him.

He continued to search…

An unusual shape grabbed his attention, drawing Korrow's gaze subconsciously. It was a dark blob, lying on top of a piece of ground that was not submerged in the cold water, near the edge of the expanse. Furrowing his brow, he studied the out of place shape.

It was the outline of a body…Could it really be…

Korrow wasted no time, hobbling over to it. His footpaws kicked up water noisily, and he shouted, "Hunter? Is that you?"

The young cheetah fumbled over himself, flopping into the water haphazardly and moving up beside the body, soaked in the chilly water up to his hips. Up close, Korrow could clearly make out Hunter's cloak and arms. There was no question; this was Hunter's body. Paws shaking, he tapped Hunter on the shoulder, not knowing if his friend was dead or alive. He yelled, "Hunter! Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Korrow grunted.

Finding Hunter's head, which was covered by his cowl, Korrow crawled up next to Hunter, placing a paw on the back of Hunter's head and pinching the back of the hood. In a slow, peeling motion, Korrow's lifted it off of Hunter's head, fearing the worst.

Unexpectedly, Hunter's face showed no injuries. Seeing this, Korrow hopped over to the other side of him, putting his paw on Hunter's pelvis and starting to roll him over onto his back, and froze. A stubby, feather-flight arrow protruded out of Hunter's back, blood stains from the wound seeping through Hunter's cloak. Korrow's pupils dilated.

Ever the improviser, Korrow ran his paw down Hunter's leg until it touched the top of Hunter's heavy boot. He folded the pant leg up until the glimmering metal pommel of Hunter's boot knife became visible. Wrapping three fingers around it, Korrow yanked it clean of the hidden sheath, and set it to work by cutting the crossbow bolt with the straight edge, stopping the offending object from wiggling in the wound by pinching the bolt closest to its place of entry with his thumb and index finger.

It snapped off cleanly, leaving the point of the arrow in Hunter's back behind it. Korrow put the knife back into the sheath and carefully rolled Hunter onto his back, pressing his head to Hunter's chest, listening intently.

Stunned Korrow lifted his ear off of Hunter's chest, staring at his unresponsive form. Hunter was still breathing, faintly.

In a split second, everything became much more urgent. In his mind, Korrow was responsible for saving Hunter's life.

Leaning forward, he stretched out his arm and touched Hunter's forehead. It was hot to the touch.

Taken off guard by these improbable signs of life, Korrow started tapping Hunter's chest repeatedly, yelling, "Hunter, wake up! Can you hear me, Hunter? It's Korrow!"

No response. Angry, Korrow stopped tapping and cupped his paws, dipping them into the water and splashing them onto Hunter's face.

The unconscious cheetah, once again, remained motionless. Frantically, Korrow splashed pawful after pawful of water onto Hunter's face, hoping that he would stir. After three or four, Korrow halted, waiting for signs of life, breathless.

Then, all of a sudden, Hunter's eyelids flickered. Korrow's heart stopped.

They opened.

Korrow's face lit up like a candle. He was awake!

Hunter's eyes stared blankly ahead, focusing on something directly above him. Korrow's whisper broke the silence.

"Hunter? Are you okay? Say something…" He trailed off, his face the picture of worry.

The older cheetah was quiet, but his eyes moved, looking at Korrow with a distant stare. The young cheetah returned the stare, chest heaving up and down with concern. He didn't want Hunter to slip away…

Without warning, Hunter's paw lifted off of the ground, grabbing Korrow's arm. The younger cheetah flinched in shock by Hunter's sudden movement.

Hunter's paw squeezed Korrow tighter, lips moving incoherently. Korrow, with Hunter's paw still firmly grasping his forearm, awkwardly shuffled closer in, trying to read his lips. The fallen cheetah's head lifted off of the ground, and he coughed weakly.

It was almost a croak, but Hunter was loud enough to hear as he sputtered two words.

"I'm…sorry." He fell into a violent fit of coughing, his entire upper body rising off the ground before plopping back down with a squelching pop in the muddy grass. Korrow elevated Hunter's head with his paw, feeling for Hunter's pulse. It was still there, but it was difficult to detect.

"What are you sorry for? You saved my life," Korrow whispered, confused. Hunter shook his head, struggling to speak.

"I… don't hate you," he wheezed, bringing a paw to his mouth and coughing roughly into it before adding. "It wasn't your fault."

He slumped back down, completely spent.

Almost instantly, a burden was lifted from Korrow's shoulders. Any sense of responsibility for what had occurred, any hard feelings the young cheetah felt toward Hunter…all of the guilt that was weighing him down since that terrible night…was cast away. A smile flashed on Korrow's features, but Hunter's condition made it fade away in an instant.

It was obvious that Hunter beginning to fade. With every passing minute, his life was ebbing away, and even though he had somehow survived the waterfall, if he didn't get help fast, he wouldn't make it.

Lightly slapping Hunter's cheek, Korrow said, with a volume spawned from the urgency of Hunter's predicament, "Do you know if there's a village close by? I need to find a place where you can get help!"

Hunter's eyes remained slits, only half open. They fluttered, but then closed again. At first, he made no answer, but, just as Korrow began to fear the worse, he opened his eyes, his dry throat croaking, "Go south. To Warfang. Warn them… go south…warn them…"

He passed into unconsciousness, head lolling to one side. With great haste, Korrow felt for Hunter's pulse again, and fortunately, it was still there.

But now, yet another task was left for the younger cheetah. Korrow wasn't going to sit here and wait for Hunter to die.

Knowing what he had to do, he got up off the ground, Korrow staggered in the water, the rush of the river to his back. When he finally regained his balance, Korrow stooped low, grabbing Hunter by his ribcage and carefully put Hunter into a sitting position. From here, Korrow stamped his left footpaw into the mud, and lifted with all his might, roaring from the strain Hunter bodyweight placed on his body. Korrow hoisted Hunter onto his back, resting the unconscious cheetah's left arm around his shoulders and holding him around his lower back with the other arm.

Korrow took one step, but when he was forced to put his right footpaw down, the lack of strength in his right leg made him wobble, nearly dropping Hunter. He wasn't going to be able to move him this way. Unless...

Turning to grab Hunter with both arms around his waist, Korrow unslung his bow and reached down to the place where Hunter's boot knife was concealed. With a deft movement, Korrow slashed the bowstring, and the bow instantly straightened out.

He returned to his former carrying position, this time using his newly created walking stick to support himself. One step at a time, Korrow carried Hunter, the limp cheetah's legs dragging on the ground. The river was much shallower at this point, and he could cross here, but crossing the river was only the beginning. It was the start of a long journey south to the city named Warfang.

But that was a journey Korrow was willing to take.

…

Author's Note: Yeppur, it took almost a month to update, yet again. Although, with six thousand words, this is the longest chapter I've written so far. For me, that's pretty long, but I dunno.

I hope this chapter didn't drag on too long. I felt like the beginning and middle were good, but closer to the end of the chapter, it seemed a bit unrefined. But, since it would probably be another few days to find out why this is, for the sake of time, I'll update anyway. :/

Anywho, it'll probably be another month before I update again. Sorry to anyone reading this. DX