So much of his previous understanding of Hesse had literally been full of misinformation and bias, Hoxians often accusing the western Kingdom of galdorkind as practically living like humanity instead of as powerful, magical beings. Their denial of the Circle often granted the unfortunate Hesseans the most vehement of disapproval, even from the otherwise peaceful and inclusive Mhoren Basheva. Admittedly, the young Hexx'en wasn't entirely sure how he felt about those things either, but he knew how he felt about the russet-haired Hessean and that was enough for him.
It sounded like more fantasy than reality to the Kzecka-born Guide whose mother was a four-hundred year old soul who'd lived in a handful of different bodies, and the dark-haired student realized that he really had absolutely no room to think that way, considering he was practically living some strange death cult fantasy himself.
"Stubborn and hot-headed? Dru, I do not believe it." Ezre laughed, tongue in cheek, and his breath was a thick cloud of hot breath.
Once they'd packed up and began their decent, however, he slowly grew quiet, careful about his steps and even more careful about his guidance down the quickly sloping opposite side of the cliff face toward the chasm that spread out below them. It was like a giant scar carved into dark stone and white snow, but phosphor twinkled from somewhere inside its depths, making the whole strange scene look like a reflection of the winter night above.
Well, it would have mirrored the stars and moons had clouds not rolled in and hidden most of it all. The wind had picked up, too, threatening to steal their breath and freeze their nostrils to the fabric of their scarves.
"We will also have to take care of the snow depth here—even if some of it seems hard-packed and able to support our weight, who knows how the drifts have been shaped. The banks could crack loose and cause an avalanche or there could be a hidden crevasse. I trust Adja's senses, if only because my otsur has trained her."
Perhaps there were things Ezre shouldn't have gone into so much detail about, but he did anyway, filling the journey downward with explanation and hushed conversation until he began to need his breath, huffing and panting to keep steady and surefooted.
The path downward was, indeed, precarious, especially when somewhere along the way it began to snow again, further limiting the range of their vision in the sparkling darkness. That was when the dark-haired Guide whistled for the spinewolf and tied them together, shivering despite the sweat that had definitely dripped beneath all of his layers at all the exertion. The large creature immediately seemed to understand its task, perhaps even taking pleasure in assisting the pair of young galdori, sweeping tail wagging briefly and bright eyes following them with warm excitement.
There was quite a bit of breathless stumbling to be had once the way down became more sheer, more slippery. Scrambling and scraping—a few bruises that probably would be found later. Fingers numb and cheeks burning, Ezre offered his hand and his strength wherever necessary, and it was as the chasm grew close enough in the thick, fat flakes to make out the details of the watchtower carved into black volcanic stone near the first part of the large scar in Vita's flesh that the snow beneath them rumbled.
It groaned and cracked.
"Run!"
The Hoxian hissed, reaching to snatch Lilanee's wrist tightly, "Hurry, up on Adja—" Shoving her onto the huthah even as the ground beneath them began to crumble, the crunchy layer of snow deceptively frozen over gaps in the mountains. He spoke quick commands in Deftung, aware that the three of them were all still tied together as the large creature immediately picked up speed, loping and almost yanking the lithe student right off his feet.
Skidding and sprayed with snow, Ezre finally managed to hoist himself up behind the Hessean, growling and grasping to find some sort of steadiness on the beast hardly made to be ridden by one body, let alone two. Still, she tolerated them both, uncannily aware of their danger. The sheet of frozen landscape they were on dropped a meter beneath them, and so did their stomachs, but the spinewolf leapt gracefully, picking up speed until her large, broad paws were galloping from the collapsing snowbank.
Behind them, a plume of powder began to rise, chasing them on their now much more urgent decent.
"We must make it to the tower.