The Baxt vai' datha had once more set up camp in a new area, a place more mountainous this time of year to give the members who travelled with the herd itself a small reprieve from the increasing heat of the summer. At present, Vasilija Vadoma had shouldered the mantle of Dz' olana, a warrior and guardian of the herd to help protect the members from risks and dangers that may arise during the hotter, drier time of year, lest water desperate or heat crazed or any other number of troubles that might disturb the Roma in their travels. She wasn't an exceptionally large mare, her flutter breeding clearly evident, but her claws we not simply just for show. The camp was in the process of being set up and would take several hours to get everyone settled and done up in proper fashion. So, she, as a Dz'olana, was scoping out the area for safety and if there was anything of note that the scouts or trailblazers may have missed. Normally, she'd fly to cover more ground, but she wasn't alone today. Accompanying her on her patrol was Amos Patrin, a stallion the spirits had urged her from her peace and rest to go assist him and his trapped chicken friend in the dead of night. That had been a half year back or so. Originally, she had invited the pair to rest, recover, then do as they will, but the two had remained, finding some degree of comfort or camaraderie amid her natal herd and had remained. They seemed happy and had been taking strides to find their places amongst the Roma.
Little Bosco, the fluffy white rooster, had been enjoying himself as a Jel'sutho'edrin, while Amos himself seemed curious to try different roles to see what best fit with his temperament and abilities. It had been explained to him that if he was uncertain, he could simply remain a Romipen until a role spoke to him, but he wasn't content to stumble into the position that felt right. He had wanted to see and observe, shadowing if position holders would let him, or actually trying if those who held the experience didn't mind a curious, attentive, large draft stallion tagging along to absorb any lessons they may impart. As the herd had been drawing near to where they were currently setting up camp, Amos had approached Vasilija asking if he could accompany her on her patrol.
It meant slower going due to his lack of flight, but she was appreciative of his drive and initiative to find the positions that struck a chord with him, though from what she had been seeing and hearing around camp, Amos had the makings of a pretty solid Parami`sus, a storyteller or poet, as the stories of his wanderings before coming to the herd had been quite enjoyable to those he recounted them to. Apparently, he could be quite animated, expressive, and engaging when he got into it. Still, it seemed as though the stallion wasn't content with just a single position. The moth mare couldn't fault him, as she herself switched between what she was currently doing and being more actively focused on her Awenydd role. Doing so made her happy and feel more fulfilled, well rounded, and perhaps he was seeking the same sort of balance.
Before heading out, the pair had bid farewell to their familiar friends, Amos to Bosco and Vasilija to Biti, her mouse friend, a Kadessa in her own right for the moth mare. With that, they ventured forth, ready to see what the mountainous terrain had in store for them. The higher elevation did make it feel a little more comfortable than that of their previous stomping grounds. Word from the trailblazer that had marked the place was that there were mountain streams aplenty, trees and grasses, and quite striking vistas even higher up from the base campsite. In over an hour of walking, they had indeed found a couple of the mentioned cool watered streams trickling around the mountains. Heading higher up in elevation, their conversation which had been comfortable though interspersed with stretches of quiet or talk of the duties or training of a Dz' olana. The path they were on was fairly steep but not enough for either of them to struggle up the incline.
Following the curving path, there was a break in the trees as the trail rose still higher. Beyond indeed stretched out quite an inspiring view, the mountain range sprawling outward, circling up to almost form a bowl around them. The wind carried the vegetal scents of the forest from below and a sort of dampness that spoke of maybe a summer storm brewing on the other side of one of those mountains. The two of them had ascended evenly spaced in the path, walking side by side as they talked and patrolled. Presently, based on the twists and turns of their route, the mountain rose up sharply on Amos's side while the edge of their path dropped off as sharply on Vasilija's side. As they started to round a bend, there was a deep, rumbling cracking and suddenly nearly half the path crumbled to clatter and fall down the cliff face, taking the moth mare with it!
It had happened in a blink and the silence that fell after made a sickening pit in Amos's gut. He had waited a moment, hoping, praying, searching the skies for the winged mare to flutter up and rejoin him on the path, but the moment extended on. He cast his frantic, fretful gaze down the gap in the path, trying to peer through the dust that had been kicked up in the crumbling of the cliffside. Was he going to see her broken body far below? Or had the rocks buried her? Was she hurt but alive? AH! There! The wind shifted once more, blowing the worst of the dust away and he could see the orange fluff of her chest. She-she wasn't at the bottom?! Amos's mind and heart were racing as he tried to make sense of what he saw. A scraggly, twisted root or branch or shrub had managed to catch the moth mare and prevent her from falling all the way down. He shouted down to her, calling her name over and over, urging her to answer, to lift her head, to do something to let him know she was alive. After what felt like an age, Vasilija stirred slowly, clearly in pain but alive.
"Vasia! You're awake!" Amos called down, using her nickname without a thought, relief evident in his voice as she lifted her head to meet his concerned gaze. "Please don't move. Are you okay? Do you think you can fly up from there?"
In truth, everything hurt her, from top to toes to tail, but her back and wings hurt something fierce. While the gnarled shrub had caught her, perhaps in the tumbling fall she had landed on those hardest when the foliage stopped her. She tentatively, gingerly tried to shift herself which made her cry out, which she tried to bite back with gritted teeth. Her cry drew Amos closer to the edge which had her snap at him to keep back from the edge, in case more of the path felt inclined to fall. "I'm afraid...I don't think I have it in me at the moment... Wish I could... I'm not keen on being this close to the view..."
Worry was etched clearly across the stallion's features as he peered down at her. He seemed to chew on his thoughts, instincts warring within him. He didn't want to leave her in such a precarious position but he was physically unable to reach her in anyway that would risk killing one or both of them. They were over an hour from base camp, that'd be at minimum two if he made good time, never mind how long it'd take to round up a rescue for her. But if he did nothing, what? He watch her die from falling if the shrub or more cliff fell away, watch her fade from dehydration? Shout himself mute in the hope that any one else might hear? He shook himself. He knew what he had to do. "Vasia... I'm going to get help. I will go as fast as I can. Please, hang in there. I'll be back for you... I promise."
He moved to take a few steps back from the edge but Vasilija called up to stop him. "Amos... if the worst were to happen... please... take care of Biti for me... Be safe... Hurry..."
Distress twisted his face at her words, but he set his jaw and nodded. "I'll be back," He repeated as he turned and raced down the path, leaving the mare alone with her thoughts, her pain, and the reality of her situation. She knew she shouldn't move. She didn't know how well rooted the shrub was and was not interested in finding out. Vasia sighed, flexing her paws to sheath and unsheathe her claws. The sound of Amos's pounding hooves soon faded, leaving her in utter silence. She didn't want to look down. Heights didn't bother her in the slightest, but if she was at risk of falling to her death, she wasn't especially interested in contemplating what chunk of rubble she'd land on. So, Vasia stared out into the sweeping vista beyond her, her breaths huffing through her nose in her pain. Stoicism only got her so far as her mind soon drifted to her sisters, to Biti, to the friends she had among the herd, her wants, her regrets... Did she have regrets? If she were to be honest with herself, yes. Some amongst the herd might think her silly or childish, but she longed for a deep, abiding love, someone to love her as deeply and fiercely as she loved them, someone to pledge her life to and vise versa. She'd love to have someone so dear and beloved, trusted, respected, cherished to raise a family with... Gods... She hadn't even thought about foals really, but now as she clung to her precarious perch, she wanted to see little portions of herself and her dearest one gazing up at her to teach and nurture... She had thought that she had all the time in the world to take her time... Her eyes stung with unexpected tears, but she fought them back. Vasilija closed her eyes and took a series of slow, deep breaths.
Amos had run and run and run, his pace unrelenting even though he cursed that he wasn't faster. He wasn't a sprinter, had never been built for speed, but he could keep pace for ages. His olive mane whipped behind him as he drew nearer to the camp, shouting for help, for attention, for any of Vasilija's kin who may be able to fly. Other Dz' olana on duty, her compatriots fell in around him and a winged volunteer manifested as the call went out. Without missing a single beat, in spite of having run for an hour, he turned and spurred himself onward, back up the mountain. He wasn't about to risk misunderstood verbal directions leading to the rescuers being too late. Some tried to encourage him to rest, that they'd take care of it, but he wasn't hearing them. They didn't have time and they needed to hurry. He had promised her! He promised!
The day had been wearing on, time continued on as it always did. The light was starting to fade and the darkening clouds of the stirring summer storm seemed to be cresting over the further edge of the bowl, pale lightning flickering within the thunderhead in the distance. The weather was heading their way, likely to strike after nightfall, but Amos wasn't about to let the storm beat them to that cliffside.
With her eyes closed, meditating and trying to commune with the spirits, for solace or for something to otherwise occupy her mind, time disappeared. She existed in a singular moment that stretched onward. It had been working quite well, until a strong shift in the wind made the shrub she was suspended by shudder. She gasped, her eyes snapping open in the instant. Oh so slowly, Vasilija shifted to where at least two of her paws could sink her claws into the bark, wincing at the spike of complaint from her body, shifting to her smaller self to lighten the load of the shrub. With her injuries, it had hurt something ferocious, but she felt a little better about not being so much of a burden to the supportive foliage. She could smell the brewing rain as the deep clouds darkened the sky over the lower peaks that lined the dip in the landscape. A storm was coming. Vasia closed her eyes once more and tried to slow her breathing again. She listened to the wind, trying to see if any spirits were responding to her, but what she heard made her heart skip a few beats. Hoofbeats, pounding hoofbeats. Not just one but a few! And the beating of wings! Her heart leapt as she looked skyward, towards the crescent gap in the path over her head. She heard her name being called! Relief surged through her.
Amos's face appeared first, followed soon by a couple of others. At first, horror passed over their expressions, but she called up to them as loud as she could to let them know she was just small, that she hadn't fallen! After some calling back and forth, the winged rescuer flew down carefully doing their best to maintain a position below the shrub that Vasilija could jump down to their back. She made the heart stopping leap, apologizing as she landed with claws out. Reconvening lower on the path, Amos had rushed over, exhaustion and hours of simmering stress making him shaky, but he was the one who stepped up to check in on the moth mare first, followed immediately after by her compatriots. The trip back to the largely set up camp was slower going, but the air of relief and celebration that no one had died was thick. Word of the crumbling cliff quickly was passed around as Vasia and Amos were checked over, Biti and Bosco rushing in to the healer's tent that was seeing to them.
Though there was still much activity around the two of them as they were checked over, Amos and Vasilija's eyes met and, despite their view occasionally being blocked by a bustling healer, a thankful expression passed between the two of them, small exhausted smiles lighting their faces before sleep, natural and medicated, took them both.
[WC: 2460]
