The sour smell of vomit filled the little cave.  Coryn rubbed gummy residue from his eyes and sat up, finding himself alone.  The opening had been cleared away, except for drifted rubble, and the light outside shone clear and bright.  Both the older man and the chervine were missing.

"Rafe?"

Where had he gone?  Crept away in the night to save his own skin?  No - the saddlebags of food and warm clothing were still in the cave.

At first, Coryn could barely recognize the landscape outside.  Loose rocks, varying in size from boulders to pebbles, lay heaped with long-dead branches and trees torn from their moorings on the heights.  Wetness gleamed like fresh-spilled blood in the slanting morning sun, pools and rivulets, even piles of quickly melting hailstones.

There was no way through the debris plugging the valley floor.  Already, water had pooled upstream and every few minutes a tree branch would be dislodged to go swirling downriver.  The reservoir kept rising, fed by the water draining off the hillsides.

The chervine stood downslope, browsing placidly on splintered branches which still bore fresh foliage.  It whuffled a greeting as Coryn approached through the debris and streams.  He patted the animal's neck, checking for injuries.  Low on the near foreleg, scraped skin and clotted blood marked a swollen joint.

Coryn left the chervine and climbed upslope for a better view.  He couldn't see much, even when he stepped up on the nearest large rockpile.  Then he caught sight of a patch of brown hide marked with dark, almost black streaks, half-buried in a stack of heavy dark stones.  He couldn't tell which of the horses it was, as both of Rafe's were bays.  At least it wasn't Dancer, who was a dun.

A breeze, ice-tipped, ruffled Coryn's hair.  He shivered and for an awful moment, the hillside seemed to ripple and heave.  Acid rose in his throat.  His knees wavered under him.  He caught himself against the nearest rock, a waist-high boulder.  When he closed his eyes, the swaying sensation intensified.  He opened them and focused on the rock, the pattern of old weathering split by fresh, razor-sharp chipping.  It felt solid under his hand.  Gradually, his vision and his stomach steadied.

"Rafe?"  Ha called.  "Rafe!"

Coryn's voice reverberated off the hillsides.  A moment later, he heard a faint response.  Echoes distorted its direction.  He scrambled on top of the boulder, waving his arms above his head so he could be more easily seen.

At last, Rafe emerged from behind one of the bigger piles upslope.  He led the other bay horse, which limped heavily.

Rafe waved, sunlight glinting off his broad smile.  Coryn gulped, shamed that he had for one moment imagined the old soldier might have deserted him.