A Different HOUNDING Excerpt

The next afternoon, just after midday, they arrived at the lip of the valley. It might as well have been the Edge of the world to Greydal. They mounted the final, mossy rocks at the margin and stood gazing over the vastness. He had never seen the sea, but the expanse of grass swaying in the warm wind could have been one.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

The two were silent for a moment as the breeze's whispering whipped past their heads. The grass spoke too, a choir of dry mutterings.

"I don't see any towns," Rulf stated.

"I don't see much of anything," Greydal countered. "Just that." He pointed a finger at the grassy plain below them.

Rulf nodded and peered at the northern horizon to the right. "Where's the road?"

"Just there. You're looking too far," Greydal said. He pointed at an ash-colored line snaking farther down from the ridge. It was hard to pick out, so immediately did the grass consume it.

"We're closer to the road than we should be," Rulf muttered.

Greydal replied, "I'm glad we are. We need to find a farm."

He studied the landscape for signs of habitation but saw only a rundown structure or shrine near where the road crossed into the valley. His eyes traveled west, and he thought he could spy the beginnings of some other terrain in the distance. A forest or rock wall.

Rulf turned and said, "I'll be clear with you, I'm hungrier than I've been almost my whole life, but I'm not going back. You only saw them golden things from far off when we were on the wall, right?" Greydal nodded and Rulf continued, "Then you didn't see what they do when they get ahold of someone." The older boy shivered.

"I think I saw the bodies."

"Yeah. Well, it's worse to watch it happen. I'd rather starve," Rulf answered and began picking his way down the slope, towards the grass.