When Garinor awoke the next morning, he felt like something was wrong. He stretched to ease a knot in his back and twitched against the burning rock in his pocket. He looked around, but he didn’t see or hear anyone nearby. The stream bubbled serenely, and he went over to drink some of the fresh water. Everything seemed quiet.
He thought back to the hectic day he had had the day before and then he remembered that he had come here with a horse. But the horse was gone. He hadn’t thought to tether it. Looking around, he could see its tracks leading back the way he had come and the sight made him nervous. There was a clear trail leading to him already and now there would be a second one.
Fear of pursuit woke him fully and he jumped into the water and ran upstream, hoping it would conceal his progress. He splashed around for a while and then hopped out on the eastern side, heading north from there.
The landscape was loaded with hills and valleys, and rocks were strewn all about, sometimes making it difficult for him move without stumbling. He saw a house not far off to the northeast and he wondered if he should stop by for a rest.
As he journeyed north in his soggy shoes, Garinor kept looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed. His diligence was worthwhile, for not long later, he saw shadows appear on the horizon. They were tall and growing. He knew they had to be after him.
Garinor wanted to run for the house in the northeast, but he was afraid of bringing the pursuers to their doorstep. His only other option was to run further north and try to hide amidst the rocks the brush at the bottom of the hill.