For seven more days, Pia walked, hunted, foraged, and slept along the path. Amazement never faded as her eyes took in the changing landscape. After circling the edge of the mountain for two more days, she’d realized the path had led her away, nearer to what seemed to be plains. The trees thinned further, then fell far into the distance. Tall grasses, thick bushes, and random shorter trees with wide sweeping limbs filled the landscape. Looking around, Pia could see only a hint of the mountains behind her, but all around her were long stretches of grassland.

Her feet were beginning to ache from the days of walking across rock and sand. Her boots were thick and strong, but she feared they would soon have holes. At night, Pia picked at one of the rabbit rib bones, carving it into a needle. During the day, she picked tall grasses, tying them to her pack to dry as she walked. They would make good thread if needed.

The amount of greenery lead Pia to believe that she’d come to a stream soon. Three days before, Pia had come across a small mountain spring leaking from the side of the mountain. She cleaned the rabbit pelt well and hung it in the sun to dry, cleaned the bones she’d kept, and then herself. A part of her had felt vulnerable and exposed to be doing such a private act in the middle of the wilderness.

Desperation had won though. Pia hadn’t been able to take her own smell. Stripping down, she’d used her dirty clothes to scrub her skin, before scrubbing her clothes, and then, she cleaned herself with handfuls of water, until her skin was almost clear of grime. Tackling her hair had been the hardest. Always braided, it had accumulated grease, tree bark, dirt, and leaves. Untangling it, rinsing it clean, and braiding it again had taken up a good chunk of time.

Crows in the trees had chattered at her and it had saved her from losing her patience and cutting her hair off.

“Are you laughing at me?” she’d asked.

Cawcawcaw. They had replied, making her grin.

She’d missed the crows from the mountains and their mischievous ways. Pia hoped they would follow her, but they soon flew off, leaving her to finish her hair alone. It was the first time she’d felt truly lonely since leaving Dwelling. Her thoughts shifted to Fewl and Conch, wondering how they were doing, what they were doing, and where they were. It hurt to think of them and Pia pushed those thoughts away, smothering those emotions deep within her chest.

Now, four days later, Pia smelled terrible and felt worse. Her skin was grimy, and her nails were stained black from ash. Water and food were still easy to access. Grasses and plants gave little water but using her yi, Pia could pull enough to sate her thirst. Rabbits were abundant, and though she grew weary of bland rabbit meat, it kept her full. Still, a growing worry had risen to her mind. She hadn’t seen anyone in days.

“Did I take a path that literally went nowhere?” she said, laughing at herself. Her voice and laughter sounded harsh for not having talked in days. Imagining her wandering the rest of her lives, lost in the ‘world’ she wanted to discover.

The sound of her own voice had jarred her. It was startling how easy it had been to slip into silence, to enjoy the sounds of nature and wildlife. A sense of unease crept into her heart. It was as if, even in her freedom, Pia didn’t exist.

It took another day of walking before Pia stumbled onto a stream. She’d decided to change direction and head deep into the meadow to her left. The wild grasses had grown coarse and tall, the ground uneven and thick with old clumps of mud. At first, she’d hesitated about pushing through. If there was no stream, but only standing water, she’d be risking walking with wet feet. To test, she’d drawn on water yi and found it abundant in the air. Over the days, Pia had come to recognize the difference in the yi when it came to standing water or moving water. Standing water had less vibrancy in the yi, but moving water practically sparked with life. The yi vibrated rapidly, pulsing in the air.

Pia kept pushing forward, even when bushes and grass towered over her, and finally she’d heard the sound of rushing water. Eagerness had propelled her forward, perhaps too quickly. Shoving through a particularly thick section of grass, Pia had stepped out and landed directly in water.

Thankfully, it hadn’t been a drop off, but the water was quick and cold. She scanned the water and saw a bank of rocks in the center. Pia waded across and dropped down onto it. Her legs sprawled out in the water and the coldness was a balm to her sore muscles.

For a long while Pia sat there, letting the cold water soothe her. When the sun reached its peak, she stood and began to follow the water downstream. It was thankfully not too deep or fast, but she maintained caution.

A natural bank formed on the right side of the path and Pia navigated onto it, getting out of the water. It turned out to be a good decision. A few hundred feet down the stream widened, deepened, and quickened. Pia was stuck on the right side now.

She kept her eyes open for a place to rest. Grass still stretched wide and far to her eye. Pia was fairly certain she was deep in the Central Plains. Her worry grew as her eyes scanned the landscape and saw little shelter available. Water was important, but it also attracted animals. Particularly predators.

It was likely she’d have to continue walking through the night if she couldn’t find a place to sleep. Her feet ached as the wet fabric rubbed against her skin. The temptation to remove her shoes grew, but Pia was reluctant. Stepping on a rock or sharp object would make walking a lot more challenging.

Her steps grew sluggish as she went. The riverbank widened and narrowed but remained consistent. Parts of the grassy bank along the river grew and shrank as she went. Some parts Pia struggled to see over, but she kept walking. It was a gamble to stay near the water, but it was also a risk to move away from it.

Until finally she got lucky. A small grove of trees appeared ahead, thick and stout with wide stretching limbs. They were set right along the water and were stout enough for her to take refuge in. They hung over the stream where the water gentled. A good place to fish and sleep. Casting her eyes at the position of the sun, Pia decided to try her luck. Once more, she shucked her clothing and scrubbed herself, her hair, and her robes clean.

Pia hung up her outer robe and took a look at her underwear. The long white robe had taken a beating. The hem was tattered, and the sleeves were a mess. An idea came to her. Taking her dagger, Pia sliced off the arms and the lowest part of the hem. Dragging the shortened hem up, she tucked it inside the belt of the robe and tied it closed. Now, her chest and lower parts were covered but her legs and arms were free.

Hanging her wet clothing up, Pia took her chance in the river.

After missing a handful of swipes with the dagger, Pia sighed. She hated to use yi to hunt, but, as her eyes watched the sun, she grew desperate. Drawing a talisman in the air, Pia used it to create a barrier around a thick fish. She slammed it down, pinning the fish, and then plucked it from the water.

Guilt ate at her. She liked using her own skills to hunt. It felt wrong to use yi for this.

She pinned the fish to the tree with her dagger and began to look for items to build a fire. In the end, Pia had to climb the tree and snap a few thick branches off.

Scaling, gutting, and cleaning the fish took little time. Seeing its small body over the fire, Pia wished she’d been greedier. Her stomach clenched with hunger. The fish wasn’t as fat as it seemed at first glance. Her robes were starting to grow loose on her.

After she finished her meal and kicked the fire out, Pia climbed the tree. It was rough and biting against her skin. Her outer robe was still too wet to wear. She tugged on her boots, despite them also being wet. From her pack, she took out her butcher knife, holding it tightly in her hand. If something happened in the middle of the night, she wanted to be prepared. Tonight was the first time she feared falling asleep. The moon was out overhead, giving her some light, but it didn’t relieve her anxiety. Sleeping in the tree wasn’t comfortable and she felt vulnerable and exposed.

It took her quite a long time, but eventually, she dozed off.