Was this then the tarn of which he had been forewarned? Would here the strange tie between himself and the unseen companion be severed - or brought to its inevitable conclusion?
It seemed fitting!
No drearier spot had he seen. No gloomier grotto existed in these mountains. If doom hung over his head, it could not choose a place more suitable than this!
He resigned himself to the inevitable!
The sun slipped swiftly behind the western peaks, and cool night breezes stirred the leaves. Swallows swooped in the darkening sky, and night creatures called one to another as day ended.
Come morning and he would search further. For now, a fire, food, and a night's rest.
The flames reflected from the precipice's base, their warmth welcomed as cool night crept in. Beyond the fire light nightsounds rose and fell, now near, now far.
He added wood to the fire, wrapped himself in his Eddie Bauer mummy bag. Ah, how pleasant to sleep after a long day's journey.
It was a sleep beleaguered by dreams. Dreams of he who dwelled in the deep tarn. In the dreams the creature came forth, looked down on the sleeping youth. It's eyes were cold, held deadly enmity.
Yet, it did not strike. Motionless it observed him, turned, and descended once more into the frigid waters.