Chapter Eighteen:
The Traveller's World
"Sally," said a familiar voice gently.
She started and sat bolt upright.
"What?!" she said, alarmed, "What is it? What?"
"It's morning," Rowan replied, "Howl says it's time for us to move."
Without conscious thought, her hand lingered for a moment in the air beside her neck as it went up to rub her eyes.
A series of clatters made them both jump and look towards the end of the cave, where their guide was emptying a large, tattered sack of its contents onto the ground. Once the final item had fallen from within – a framed piece of parchment that their guide picked up and scanned for a minute before setting it atop the pile – the Pokémon moved towards the charred ashes that remained of their campfire and stocked what remained of the food the Pidgey had gathered into the tattered sack.
Slinging it across his body, he broke a single fruit in two and handed a half to each of them.
"On your feet," he said, his tone brusque, "We need to make a start on covering some more notable distance."
The Pidgey fluttered onto the top of his head and stretched her wings wide, yawning, and chirruped a few presumed words to Howl, who replied in Pokémon tongue, then began to walk along the cave's passage.
Sally bit into the fruit and found it's taste bland and watery, but at least quenched some of her thirst. Rowan helped her up as they followed their guide out of the cave for the final time and into the open.
Their view was hindered slightly by the thin layer of fog in the air, shaded a soft blue-ish colour by the brightening sky above, and the sun – just barely visible below the horizon – was a dull glow instead of a mighty blaze.
Rowan and Sally both rubbed their eyes and blinked hard to try and wake themselves fully in the relatively dim light they were given, and wrapped their cloaks more securely around their bodies to protect against the sudden chill.
Howl said,
"We need to get moving as soon as we can. You can expect more early mornings in the future, but as long as we keep moving, this journey will nearly be over before you know it."
Rowan's mouth thinned. He had never been much good at handling early starts, but held back from complaining, and Sally knew, with a hint of affection, that the reality of just who their guide was and how true his promise to protect them had been was finally starting to sink in.
The little Pidgey took to the air, fluttering slightly in the lead, and the three set off, ready to leave their small, cramped shelter behind for good.
It was quiet going for the most part; their group was quite alone as they trekked along the mountain path, and hardly a breath of wind was heard along the way. As their course began to slope downwards a little, their space for walking began to progressively increase until Howl informed them that they had gone around the mountain by about a quarter of its width, and were now nearing the point that joined it to its neighbouring, taller mountain, and that by descending down from the valley between them, they would reach level ground at last.
As foliage began to return to their surroundings, the sky grew brighter, and soon afterwards they could hear the sound of water flowing somewhere nearby.
Eventually, after following the sound of running water and climbing down a slope littered with loose stones, they found a stream that had woven its way down the mountain from perhaps the very peak, where Howl decided it would be a good time for them to stop and refill their flasks.
"Hey, where are you-?" Rowan began uncertainly.
Sally lowered her flask from her mouth and followed his gaze.
"Just gonna go wash," Howl replied, "I hate being covered in all this..."
His paw motioned towards the fur on his middle, hips and legs, which was stained almost beyond recognition with his own blood, and Rowan nodded his understanding.
"I'm just past the corner. I won't go far."
The two watched him go, and Sally made to reach into her luggage for food, but Rowan asked quietly,
"You feeling OK? How's your leg?"
"I'm fine," she said at once, and, "You're the one who got beat up by the Feral, I should be asking you if you're okay!"
"Sally, come on, don't change the subject. I noticed you limping a little back th-"
"Oh, who's changing the subject? Are you actually all right, Rowan? Does your back still hurt? Are your-"
"Sally, listen to me! This is serious!"
She hesitated.
"I… I'm sure it's fine," she said uncomfortably, "I mean, I can walk on it no problem, so…"
"Lemme see."
Again she hesitated, but could see there was little point in arguing and slipped her boot off cautiously and rolled her stocking down to her ankle.
Rowan carefully unravelled the bandage they had tied and took one look at her injury before his brow furrowed and he let go, strode towards the stream and wetted a cloth in the icy water before striding back to her side.
"You need to tell us when you're in pain," he said solemnly.
"I-I didn't realise…!" she said, "But it doesn't hurt!"
"That could be just as bad as if it hurt a lot," he retorted sternly, "The skin around the cut is all red. It could be getting infected."
"We cleaned it. You cleaned it," she said dryly, "Are you ever gonna stop worrying about me?"
"Maybe someday."
"Well, I hope that'll be someday soon. If I have to hear if I'm OK every morning, noon and night when we're on the island, honestly, I think that will be the thing that drives me crazy rather than being isolated from any kind of society."
She winced as he brushed the cloth over her leg, but no sooner had it happened when Rowan noticed her discomfort and proceeded with the utmost care.
As soon as Rowan and Sally's voices were almost out of earshot, Howl's legs finally gave out and he fell to the ground on all fours, panting like a Stoutland under the hot sun. He clutched his swimming head and heard the noise of the running waters begin to drift away from him. His tail was dragged limp along the ground as he scrabbled desperately towards the stream and began to scoop water into his parched mouth.
"Mister?" the Pidgey's voice said, but before she could say more, Howl plunged his entire face into the stream and gulped down entire mouthfuls at a time.
Water…! Pure stream-water…! Why had he never appreciated such a wonderful drink before? Its definitively bland taste, the way its icy chill numbed his tongue, the way it made his teeth ache, the way it cooled his burning body and moistened his dry throat – a drink truly unlike any other!
Finally he had to stop for air and rolled onto his back, panting deeply, trying to keep his breaths steady.
"Mister!" said Pidgey again, and he managed to reply,
"I'm fine… I'm fine…"
"No, you're not!"
"This isn't new to me. I can handle it."
"You're being stupid! You need to take is easy and re-"
"I've rested enough."
-and before she could complete her retort, he rolled over once more, cupped his paws together and drank some more of the freezing water.
"You should drink some too," he said between mouthfuls, "You're not exactly in good health yourself. That human barely fed you for days, you told me."
"But I'm not the one doing all the heavy lifting! Maybe you can travel OK, just, but what if another Feral attacks us? What if it's more than one this time?!"
It was a few moments before Howl replied.
"I'll take them down," he said with a soft growl, "no matter what."
"And what if you get hurt even more?!"
"I'll strike from a distance."
"Mister, stop it! You're not taking this seriously! What if you-"
"I am," he said with all the force he could muster, "As I just told you, this isn't new to me. I know what I'm doing, and trust me, I don't plan on taking unnecessary risks. But the longer I stay out here, the more endangered I leave others whom are very, very important to me. We have to keep moving forward."
"If they're so important to you, why're you even leaving 'em in the first place?! And why're those two monsters back there following you around?!"
He drank several more mouthfuls before answering.
"All you need to know is that we've worked out a deal between us, and as long as I'm around – in general – they won't even think about harming you."
"And why's that?"
"…They know what'll happen if they try."
He looked away then, and filled the flask he'd taken from the cave-dwelling man's belongings with water and began to pour it across his body, dragging his claws through his fur like a brush.
When they had set off again, it was with a little more energy and haste, and after a half-hour of climbing atop mossy rocks that formed ledges up into a tree-shrouded route, and Howl hacking through branches and vines that intercepted their course, the sunlight began to filter more strongly through the trees canopies above, pummelling its brilliance upon their heavy eyelids.
Howl wrestled through a mass of roots that protruded from a huge fallen tree before them, and Sally was aware all the time that he tugged and wrenched the roots apart of how heavy his breathing was, and had noticed as they'd been heading uphill the way he'd been walking with an almost unnoticeable limp. She was bursting to intervene, to tell him to stop and recover his strength, but in reality, she was struggling to keep up herself, and Rowan fared no better than either of them.
She realised then how vulnerable their party was at the time; their guide and protector dizzy and sickly, and she and Rowan both tired, cut and battered along their limbs and faces.
With a grunt, Howl pulled hard and dislodged the final root, nearly hitting Rowan in the eye, and said to them both,
"All right… We should be… at the in-between point now…"
His telepathic voice sounded strained.
Before either of them could comment on it, he moved on swiftly towards where the trees parted near the end of the trail and stopped at the very end of it.
"There it is…" he said with the smallest hint of satisfaction hidden in his tone, "Take a look."
They mimicked his steps, and as they drew level with him, Sally and Rowan were both unable to mask their astonishment.
The view that met their gaze was unlike anything they had ever seen in their lives.
The sun had at last risen above the skyline and bright daylight rippled from the right over the valley's long grass, shading them to a pale gold; thick clouds loomed above as individuals utterly apart from one another, allowing the ghostly-blue of the heavens to flicker down upon the miniature forests of beech, where leaves were beginning to turn their autumn hue, a scatter of bark-brown and crimson among the green.
The neighbouring, taller mountain towered above far, far out across the lump-strewn terrain, various trees dotted the landscape, and streams and rivers crisscrossed the mountain surface, their running waters carried to their ears by the gentle breeze that swept over the expanse.
"Incredible…!" Rowan breathed.
"Like a dream…!" Sally concurred in the same tone.
Howl gave a single deep chuckle, and the Pidgey took flight into the air, fluttering down to the prairie below.
Howl flicked his paw, beckoning for them to follow as he sank to the ground and began to make his way steadily down the steep, rocky slope.
Once they reached level ground and were submerged waist-deep in long grass, the Pidgey took point up above and relayed to Howl when there was unsafe footing and potential dangers concealed in their path.
They scrambled on across the chilling rivers, trekked up and down the miniature hills along the way, and forded on through the tall, thick grass, and all the while that the neighbouring mountain drew steadily closer and closer, Rowan and Sally were both marvelling at just about everything there was to be seen. A place so remote, so detached from the bustling towns they were accustomed to, nature's creation all around, completely untouched by settlers.
Or so it seemed for almost a full hour, until the Pidgey fluttered down and twittered in a noticeably more agitated tone.
"Smoke?" Howl replied, "Where?"
She flew up high into the air and Howl left Sally and Rowan's questions unanswered to run towards and then leap up into a tree, appearing from within its canopy moments later.
"Is it a Fire-Type Feral?" he asked as Pidgey hovered beside him, staring, like him, out towards the column of black haze.
"I don't think so," she replied, "I could barely even see the actual fire. It must be tiny."
"In that case, it may not even be a Pokémon, never mind a Feral…"
"I'll take a closer look," she began, fluttering forward, "while you-"
But a sudden firm hold on her leg prevented her from finishing her sentence, let alone going anywhere.
"Oh, will you just-?! I'll stay high up! If there is anybody there, they'll never even know I was scouting ar-"
"Right where the way down is, as well…" Howl mumbled absent-mindedly, eyes measuring the distance between the mountain and the fire.
"And there's more than one…" he added upon directing his Aura senses towards the obscurely-shaped lights.
"So what do we do?" said Rowan uneasily.
"You're sure there isn't any other way down?" said Sally.
"Positive," he replied, "The very ground on which we stand used to be known as the Warrior's Grounds. Powerful Pokémon would settle great disputes with one-another here, and although the place has flourished since, this used to be a desolate valley filled with fissures and craters. The slopes alongside have also become unsteady. If I had to, I could probably make it down, and Pidgey could fly, of course, but two humans as well?"
He shook his head.
"We'd have to be moving precisely side-by-side to avoid dropping anything on each-other, and still, just one wrong step, and nothing would save you then."
He stared at the ground and frowned, his drooping tail flicking from side to side irritably.
Rowan squinted towards the obstacle in their path and said suddenly,
"Guys? Whatever made that fire is moving. And there's definitely more than one."
And he was right. As they followed his gaze, they could see figures heading in separate directions across what little of the valley remained to them, and two were heading clearly in their direction.
"This way – now! Move!"
They obeyed, and followed Howl swiftly towards a row of trees and slowed to a walk once they were concealed behind them.
"Now what do we do?" said Sally. Pidgey chirruped softly and the two humans were alarmed to hear Howl suddenly growl,
"Not a chance!"
As they stepped out of their seclusion, Howl said at last, "You, fly up high and stay there until I call you down. If anyone does end up drawing their attention, it's going to be me, not you." The Pidgey twittered angrily, but Howl snarled,
"Go!"
-and she obeyed him without further argument.
Howl's Sensors lifted, and after some moments, he said,
"Sally, Rowan, listen. Our quarry is, unmistakeably, a human group."
"How d'you know that?" said Rowan, but the Pokémon went on,
"There's a chance they may not recognise you as wanted criminals, and for the sake of that chance, it would be best if Pidgey and I kept out of sight. However, if they do recognise you, rest assured we'll be at your side before you can blink."
"What are you getting at?" said Sally.
He crouched inside a verdant hollow for cover, and they followed him.
"The two of you will try to slip past as nonchalantly as you possibly can. If you're spotted, act just as surprised as they are, and try to keep heading on as well as you can."
"So don't act suspicious?"
"Exactly."
"What if they're monster hunters?" said Rowan, "They'll recognise us the moment they see our faces."
"If they are, and if they do, I'll deal with them." Howl replied before glancing out into the distance.
"Now's your chance. Head in that direction, and I'll be close. Go."
There was no time to debate, and unwillingly they hastened to do as he said, keeping their distance from the roaming strangers and heading steadily towards the two wagons that were parked close to where the fire was burning.
The mountain loomed high over them as they finally began to turn left and close the distance between them and their quarry, each of them unable to stop themselves from nervously scouring the surroundings for their protector, and caught fleeting glimpses of a blue streak of fur moving from cover to cover or crouching beneath the long grass, trailing alongside their course, but other than that, they were well and truly on their own.
As their feet met dusty earth and were mere paces away from the closest wagon, Howl's voice suddenly said,
"Wait."
In the silence, footsteps were heard exiting the wagon furthest from them.
"Go round the other way," he instructed, and they crossed to the opposite end of the wagon just as a somewhat portly woman walked over to the fire and began to work on stirring something in a boiling pot.
They treaded carefully, moving out of seclusion only when their guide told them to, and not a sound could be heard other than the woman's quiet humming and the froth of whatever she was heating.
Their course that would lead them down was just in sight when Howl growled,
"Wait - get back, quickly!"
And Sally, late to react, was pulled back out of sight as the woman by the fire raised her head and called heartily,
"Well now! Seems We were right to scrounge all the way up here, weren't we, boys?"
Reluctant groans reached their ears.
"Ma," came a young male voice, "None of us thought it were a bad spot to forage, but I really hope you appreciate how lucky we are to have had such a safe trip, let alone survive ten minutes all the way out here!"
"Don't talk nonsense," the woman replied, "This is just as dangerous as any other spots we search. The townsfolk aren't exactly well-informed about this land, are they?"
"Only crazy folk and monster hunters go up into those mountains, they said to us; any alternate foraging locations would be much, much better for one's survival. And their sanity. Which would already be questionable if they were considering heading up here."
"Are you questioning your dear, sainted mother's sanity, Bradley?"
"N-No! No, Ma, I-"
His mother cut him off roughly, and before Sally or Rowan could look to see just how many there were, there came a high screech from up above within the clouds.
"What in the world?" the woman's voice gasped, and Howl's voice carried clearly to their minds,
"Now, you two! Make a break for it!"
They moved out from beyond their cover and strode away from the stricken, chattering voices, glancing over their shoulders almost constantly until their feet found the way that sloped gradually down, and their guide's voice said,
"Now! Run!"
-and they abandoned caution, running as fast as they could without falling down the slope.
After what felt like ten minutes, they struggled to slow themselves and looked back towards the top of the incline.
"W-We… should keep going," Rowan panted, "We're too exposed… we should keep heading farther down un-"
"But Howl…!" Sally cut across him, "I-If we go too far, h-he won't be able to find us…!"
"We can't stick around in case the people to find us…! C'mon, Sally!"
He grasped her wrist and urged her along, and she was too breathless to argue back, but glanced over her shoulder all the same as they followed the mountain road, swerving gradually down to the right.
Another five-or-so minutes passed until their strength was sapped and they could no longer run, only walk down the slope, their legs only just holding their weight until Sally's foot slipped on smooth stone and she fell down flat on her side, all the breath knocked out of her.
"Whoa!" Rowan's voice rang – calm at first until he turned on the spot and found his own foot sliding dangerously along the rock's surface.
"You OK there?" he asked, helping her up.
"Stupid-"
Sally muttered a few choice words before replying with, "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright, just that… stupid rock!"
"Don't," Rowan grasped her arm, "Don't punch the rock. You won't win."
"Oh, look at you wising up-"
Sally clenched her teeth and repressed a yell, sinking back to her knees.
"Sally?! What's wrong?!"
"My leg…"
"What is it? Did you fall on it?"
"I-I'm not sure… Maybe."
"Here, let me…
Sally, you're bleeding again!"
"Oh, joy…"
"And it looks like it's been bleeding awhile now!" he added on closer inspection, "Why didn't you say anything?!"
"OK, calm down, will you? You're getting more upset about it than me-"
"Great; infected," he cut across her, his tone bitter.
"What? No, no, it's just…"
"I'm not a doctor, but I'm pretty sure a clean cut isn't supposed to look like that," he said, reaching into his satchel and wetting a cloth with water from his flask, "We'll just have to keep trying to clean it. Maybe we can keep it from getting worse."
"Rowan, no-" she started to say, but he snapped,
"Sally, we can't just ignore this anymore! If you get sick-"
"Rowan, not now! Look!"
He followed her finger towards the way they'd come and saw, like she had, that the wagons had begun to move at last, clattering down the slope along the only path available, and were due to cross with theirs at any given moment.
Rowan cast around wildly.
"I-I…!" he stammered, "Can – Can you get up?"
"I think…"
He took her hand and helped her to her feet, but as soon as she made to walk, they found that her leg was unable to support her enough to do so.
"M-Maybe…!" Rowan scoured their surroundings, searching for a place for them to hide, but the mountain road held little to nothing aside from an abundance of brambles and venomous-looking foliage.
"We'll just have to move. Maybe we can find-"
"No," Sally said leading him by the arm to the side, "This way, here."
They moved towards a flat patch of earth off the main road and she sank awkwardly to the ground, taking out her flask and hiding her injured leg with her cloak.
In their current state there was little to no chance of outrunning the wagons, and with nowhere for them to hide, they were unable to avoid being seen by the people, but Sally remembered what their guide had said about them appearing unsuspicious…
If, she thought, they could make it seem like they were merely common hikers doing nothing more than walking up the mountain road and happening to stop for rest, perhaps – just perhaps – the people would think nothing of them and move on…
Either way, they were drawing close now, and this was the only option they had. If there was nowhere for them to hide, they would have to resort to doing so in plain sight.
As the first wagon begun to close the distance between them, they saw that peculiar kinds of Pokémon were pulling it along; not the creatures they had seen going to and from Rota Village with the flaming manes and tails. The ones they saw were covered in brown fur with brown-orange hooves, large black horns that curved over their backs and large, green, leafy collars that wrapped around their necks and rested upon their chests. Steering the wagon was a young man who was glancing back over the top of the wagon back towards the slope, as if checking for some invisible pursuers, and it was thanks to this that he did not so much as glance at Sally and Rowan until he had driven right past them.
"Whoa, whoa there! Slow down!" a voice from the wagon behind suddenly called to his companion, yanking hard on the reins to make the vehicle stop.
Keeping her expression perplexed, Sally turned her gaze to the one who had seen them, now stepping down from his seat and approaching them.
"Uhh… hello there?" she said blandly, "Can I help you at all?"
"You folks really shouldn't be here," the stranger said, breathless, "It's real dangerous."
"Dangerous?" she echoed, her tone puzzled, "How d'you mean? We always come for walks up here, it's a great spot for exercise. We don't go that far into the mountains anyway, we know there're creatures up there."
"Yeah, exactly that," he replied, "One of 'em is followin' us – reckon we set foot on their turf or summin'."
"What?! Are you serious?" she asked, leaning back to scour the mountain road,
"I don't see anything like that," Rowan supported, "Are you sure you saw something following you guys?"
"We heard it clear as a bell and saw something rustling the grass - there's no doubt about it!"
"I really don't think-"
"Now come on, y'all!" he said, his tone desperate, "You can hop on in the wagon wit' us – we'll take you back to the town."
"No, no, it's okay, we'll head back on our own soon-"
"BRADLEY!" a woman's voice bellowed from the front wagon, "Get a move on, boy, it's still following us!"
"Ma, we can't leave strangers out here!" he shouted back, glancing back up the road as he spoke, "Now come on, I'm sorry, but we'll never stop worrying otherwise!" He grasped Sally's arm and pulled her hastily to her feet, and when she gasped in pain, his eyes widened, "Hey? What's the matter, miss?"
"Her leg's a bit-" Rowan began.
"No, I'm fine, I'm fine," Sally reassured, waving away their concerns, but the man named Bradley had noticed the bandage wrapped around Rowan's head and said "You folks are all banged up!"
"What, this?" said Rowan, "Nah, it's fine, man, just a bump-"
"Morgan!" Bradley called, cutting across Rowan, "C'mere and help these two into the wagon, quickly!"
"No!" Sally shouted, just barely managing to sound exasperated instead of terrified, "We're fine, I'm telling you – we can walk down-"
-but the family seemed to neither hear nor care for their protests and the youth supported her on his shoulder and a young woman, presumably his sister, rushed forward to lead Rowan alongside them towards the wagon in front.
"Howl…!" Sally breathed, peering over her shoulder desperately as she was forced to limp away, but there was no sign of their guide. No streak of blue fur in the distance, no gruff voice in her mind. What was happening? Why wasn't he interfering?!
"Here ya are, hun," said a voice from above, and she felt someone take hold of her arms and lift her up the steps into the wagon, and before she knew it, she was being seated next to Rowan, the sound of a whip cracking met her ears and they were moving down the bumpy road, further and further away from their unseen guide.
A voice snapped Sally out of her reverie and she blinked and looked towards the person sitting opposite her.
"Sorry, what?" she asked. The woman - whom she assumed to be the mother of the family - responded,
"I said we'd best have a look at that leg, sweetheart." She spoke with a villager's accent, like her son Bradley, and her face was warm with full, sun-kissed cheeks.
"My boy tells me you two are hurt pretty badly. Let me have a look."
"O-Oh…" she struggled to respond, "No… thank you, it's really not that bad."
"Oh, hush now," she said moving over to her side of the wagon and jostling Rowan a little out the way. She hefted Sally's leg up onto the seat and unwrapped the bandage Rowan had begun to tie around it.
"Sweet, merciful…!" she gasped, "How did this happen?!"
"Agh…" Sally groaned irritably, "Do I have to answer that?"
"You poor thing…" she said, reaching into a box full of herbs and picking out a select few before grinding them into powder and applying them to a cloth with some hot water, steaming slightly.
"Here now, love… Hold still…"
"Son of a-!" Sally clenched her eyes shut tight and gripped the rim of her seat. The woman laughed, but not unkindly.
"Now, now, no need for that." She bound the wound tight in a fresh bandage and pressed Sally's hand over it.
"Keep it elevated on the seat and keep some pressure over it 'til we arrive in the town. That medicine oughta clear up any germs stuck in there. Here," she handed her a jar of some lime-green powdery substance and said, "When you get home, clean that leg up with some warm water and put some more of that over it when you're done. It's my own remedy. Go on, it's yours to keep."
"I can't accept that!" said Sally, reaching for her wallet, but the woman waved her hand,
"Come now, love, – can't have you spending all your savings on the expensive, inefficient malarkey you'll find in town… How about if you want to thank me, you can tell me how you got such a nasty cut."
Sally slumped her shoulders glumly.
"Well…" she said at last, glaring past her shoulder to the person seated behind her, "You might want to ask him."
Rowan turned his head awkwardly from the younger sister who was mopping his forehead with a cloth to meet her gaze, stung.
"Me?! What'd I do?"
"You gotta be kidding," Sally replied in a deadpan tone.
Rowan's eyes lit up for a split-second, mirroring his understanding before he responded with convincing hesitation,
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Let's go this way, you said; it's faster, you said; the view up this way is seriously the best! …You said."
"We always go for walks up here, what're you attacking me for? – I got hurt too, ya know-"
"This was your idea, you utter, utter moron!" Sally shouted, startling the wagon's passengers and even the Pokémon pulling the vehicle gave noises of alarm,
"You…!" she repeated in response to his smirk, gesturing frantically with her hand to her leg and to his forehead, "You did this! This was entirely your fault! - Wipe that smug look of your smug mug-"
"All right, all right now, calm down," said the woman, both alarmed and repressing a smile, "Let's not play the blame game, all right? It's not a matter of whose fault it is-"
"It's his. All of it."
"Well, maybe so, maybe not, but I hope you've both learned your lesson."
"Ya hear that?" said Sally, addressing Rowan, who shook his head as though he'd given up trying to reason with her.
The woman sat back down between them and said, "It'll be awhile 'til we reach the town. How about you tell us your names?"
She gestured to herself and said, "We're the Masons. I'm Helen; this here's my daughter Morgan; driving us is my husband; and in the wagon behind are my sons Bradley and Timothy."
Sally replied,
"I'm Lisa. And he's Jack."
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both. I must ask, what brings a pair of youngsters up this way into the mountains?"
"Helen…" came a weary voice from the wagon's driver, but,
"Now you just quiet down! No harm in simply asking!" –was Helen's seemingly reflexive reply.
"You don't mind me askin', do you?" she added, glancing between them both.
"We like to take walks up here," said Rowan, inventing wildly, "I mean, yeah, there's a bit of a risk, but it's still a nice spot."
"Ah! So you live in the town, then? I surely haven't seen you around before…"
"No," said Sally, her brain working furiously, "No, we… we're from Rota Village. Our grandparents live here, and we visit them as much as we can."
"Ah, so you two are relatives… Well your grandparents are lucky to have kids like you visiting them regularly. I don't suppose they're the-"
"Helen!" said the driver again, a little angrily this time.
"Oh, what is it now, you old fool?! I'm allowed to ask them questions!"
"I don't think it's any of our business who their family is or why they're visitin' them. Folks are entitled to a little privacy, especially the young'uns."
"We ain't asking them anything personal, are we, Morgan?"
"Ma…" she responded, tilting her palm to and fro, and leaning forward to continue treating Rowan's cut forehead, "They look tired… Let's leave 'em alone."
Helen grumbled irritably, but conceded and gave a smile and shrug to Sally and Rowan as if they had taken her side of the conflict.
The wagon rolled further and further down the hills, rounded the corners and drew steadily closer and closer to the cluster of buildings waiting for them near the base of the mountain, and all the while, Sally and Rowan stole glances at their surroundings whenever they could, but Howl was nowhere to be seen. And before they knew it, they could feel the wagon reaching a consistently level ground, hear voices calling out, and hear a rattle of large gates being opened for them.
Unable to see their protector anywhere, and with no opportunity or place for them to run or hide, their eyes could do naught be find each-others, and each found the other's face mirroring their own dread.