“There are pits and deep pools all over the marsh,” the man replied indifferently.“Locals know how to navigate them, but for others it’s a bed of traps.”
“So you’re a local here?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Ethyr pressed his lips together, glancing around.Night had fallen heavily by then, and the thin sliver of moon didn’t offer much light.Still, he could see that the man wore a cloak over his tunic and had dark, short hair.
“What’s your name?”he asked.The man exhaled loudly.
“...Kyarin.”
“Why did you help me?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Be… because it puts you in danger, too.”
He shrugged.
Ethyr trailed behind him for another minute.“What happened to the third man?”
“Wolf trap.”
His eyes widened.“Why was that there?”
“Because I put it there.”
“What?Why?How?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
Ethyr scoffed, tossing his hands.“When a mysterious stranger appears out of nowhere and saves you for no reason, it brings up a lot of questions.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
Ethyr opened his mouth, then closed it.
He followed Kyarin for hours.The man never said anything about it.They left the marshes behind and were walking through grassland when Kyarin veered off the road.Ethyr stood at its edge and watched him sit down in the grass.
“Are you going to sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mind if I sleep, too?”
“You can do what you want.”Kyarin took off his cloak and laid it over his lap, then dropped onto the ground, hands tucked under his head.Ethyr looked around the empty road, then crept over and sat beside him.
“Kyarin?”
The man took a deep breath.“Yes?”
He looked down at the shawl-bag in his lap.“Thank you.You’re a good person.”
The man didn’t reply.
Ethyr lay down, curling up around the jewelry.He stared at the silhouette of grass against the night sky and tried not to think about what had happened, or the imprint of fingers he could still feel under his knees, or how bad his feet hurt, or that he had failed after two days.Deep down he knew he wouldn’t succeed, but he’d thought he would at least make it farther than that.
“Here.”