Could it really be that simple? A two-minute lesson on footwork and she's gone from newborn foal to… well, something a bit more stable.
But probably not a Goat, Edmund thinks, seeing the princess's foot slip on a patch of ice. He flinches forward, hand outstretched to grab her, but she's already recovered. Edmund lets his hand fall back to his side. The princess stands with one hand pressed against the mountain for a moment, and Edmund sees her take a deep breath and straighten her shoulders.
When they're once again moving steadily down the slope, Edmund lets his mind wander back to this morning. Even then, he recalls, she'd made mistakes— most notably with the hot pan— but when he'd told her how to do something, she'd easily done so. He focuses on her carefully controlled steps now, so obviously different from this morning, as the angle of the drop-off to the right starts to become less severe. How much differently could the morning have gone?
The pessimistic part of him points out, though, that moving more quickly might have meant their encounters with the Giants could have been very different too. Edmund takes his eyes off the princess to scan the forest ahead. He can see bare branches rippling with gusts of wind, but he can't see anything large and lumbering down there. The path they're on disappears into decidedly more varied trees than they've encountered thus far— many deciduous trees intermingling with evergreen— a clear sign that they are reaching lower altitudes. Still, the only green in this forest is the needles of the evergreens.
Since they haven't descended far enough to be under the level of the forest canopy yet, Edmund can still see across the tops of the trees below. Dark gray clouds are starting to crowd along the horizon, and he can't tell what's beyond the forest. It could be they've finally reached the end of the mountain range, or it could be another steep drop off into the next valley.
Edmund scans again across the many leafless branches and can't help thinking of home. It may be too early here for spring leaves, but Edmund knows the trees of Narnia are already forming delicate new buds. He'd seen it before leaving for Corsecant, and the pang of longing to be back in those familiar forests instead of these cold, unknown woods feels like an ache in his stomach.
No amount of longing for Narnia will get us there any sooner. Edmund attempts to refocus on the present. He watches the princess' steps again, ensuring she still looks stable, before looking more closely at the nearest edge of the forest below. To their right, the main trail through the woods— where the Giants had passed through— is wide and well-defined, its course leaving a conspicuous void in trees. The size of the road could be simply the result of being made by Giants, or it could be that it's a fairly well traveled route. Edmund hopes for the former, but his attention oscillates between watching the princess in front of him and watching for movement along that road.
When they finally reach the last descent and their path levels off at the edge of the forest, Edmund has gotten a pretty good idea of the general directions of things— at least in relation to their current position. He wants to keep moving, but the princess has stopped near Adan with her hands braced on her hips and Edmund can hear her shaky breaths.
Edmund looks up, noting that the sun is already well past its peak. It must be at least eight hours since they left the cave this morning. Eight hours of hard travel, and Edmund must admit he's a bit impressed she's still on her feet. It's clearly not an easy task for her— and no doubt far from a typical day's activities— but she's continued after each stop without a word of complaint. This girl is not quite the pampered palace princess he'd first taken her for.
Surrendering to need for at least a short respite, Edmund swings the pack off his back to pull out the water skin. After taking a few sips he holds it out. The princess takes it as Edmund turns his attention to the tree line, where the dark clouds have crowded out most of the once clear sky that had been visible through the branches of the bare deciduous trees. What light the clouds allow reaches the forest floor, but their clearing— between the steep mountain behind them and the edge of the forest before them— is mostly shadowed.
Even without the gloomy atmosphere and the impending storm, there's something about these woods that gives him a sense of foreboding. Edmund stands straight and still as he scans the trees to find some source for the feeling. There's nothing, though, nothing except his own gut feeling of something amiss. Edmund looks to Adan then, and sees that the Wolf seems anxious as well, pacing slowly in a tight line near the trees.
"Can you tell which way Phillip went from here?" Edmund calls softly. Adan hears him and stops his pacing long enough to nod toward the narrow continuation of the trail they've been descending.
"Further on," Adan says. The trail looks no wider— or clearer— than a deer trail, and it seems to lead straight on into the trees. Edmund can see the muffled trail— really just some turned-up snow piles—that indicates they're several hours behind Phillip. He peers into the trees, apprehension still prickling down his back, but there's nothing there that should make this path more dangerous than any other place in Giant lands.
Edmund glances up at the sun's murky outline through the clouds, and then at the shadows around him. This path heads southeast, he notes. He scans along the edge of the woods toward his right, wondering if they might be better off on the Giant's main path through the woods. From farther up, it had appeared to have a more southern direction than the route before them.
"Adan," he starts, looking back at the Wolf. Adan meets his gaze, and there's something in his posture— maybe the tilt of his head or the set of his tail— that makes Edmund uneasy. Adan is motionless now, but when he glances at the princess and shakes his head slightly, Edmund realizes the Wolf is still uneasy. Edmund glances at the princess as well, wondering if they should discuss it elsewhere— and he wonders, suddenly, if that was actually what Adan meant by "further on". Caught in this small clearing between the mountain and the forest, he suddenly feels at the same time trapped and overly exposed.
Edmund tilts his head down for a moment and closes his eyes. His foot brushes against the pack as he shifts, and he considers pulling out the small map that's tucked away inside it. The Giant territories have never been accurately mapped, though— at least not by the Narnians— and the vague outlines of Corsecant that have been filled in by visiting diplomats wouldn't be any help even if he could pinpoint their current location in this unfamiliar land.
We must be nearing the border by now, though. He opens his eyes to peer at the peaks behind them. They've been traveling mostly south all day, and Edmund had only gone a day and a half north into Corsecant before that. He tries to guess at distances and locations, but he'd been traveling on horseback on his way north. Could they be far enough south to have reached the end of the mountain range?
Edmund rubs his eyes. The glare of the white snow all day has been building up to a dull ache, but he pushes all that aside and drops his hand to assess the path before them again. Heading east would send them deeper into the Giants' lands— and could put them at risk of encountering more Giants— or they might be just as likely to meet Giants on the larger path if that's a main thoroughfare. But it could put them closer to the Narnian border.
Aslan, please show us the way. He bows his head, still parsing through all the options, and waits for a sign, a voice, anything really, to point him in the right direction. After another few moments, he remembers the compass he stuffed into the bottom of the bag along with the hastily copied map. He quickly pulls off his gloves, stuffs them under his arm, and reaches into the depths of the pack.