The landscape was beautiful, at least, and while it was cold, the skies remained mostly clear. They would occasionally get small flurries in the morning, but nothing that prevented them from traveling. Still, it was hard to enjoy the beauty of nature surrounding them when he was constantly tired, hungry, and worrying that their luck might run out. The weather could turn on them at any time.
And yet, despite all the hardship both mental and physical, his cock always perked up when they made camp for the night—somehow giving him enough energy to bed the orc, no matter the fatigue that weighed on his body the rest of the day. But he had meant what he’d said when he’d told Korik he was open to continuing their arrangement; and Korik hadn’t turned him down yet. It was arguably the most dire situation that he’d ever been in, and somehow he was having more sex now than ever before in his life.
The strange juxtaposition of it all made him laugh if he thought on it too long. How had they ended up like this?
For the first few days after the storm had passed, everything was much the same: they woke; ate whatever rations they had leftover from the night before; Korik would check their upcoming route; then they would get their snow shoes affixed and break camp. They’d walk until there was no more daylight to guide them, foraging and hunting as they went; then would set up camp, eat, and go to bed together. By then, Varen was exhausted enough to sleep soundly until the rising sun on his eyelids stirred him awake.
On the third day, after Korik had used his magic to look ahead, he had a more grim expression than normal as he got to his feet, which immediately set Varen on edge.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. Korik jumped, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I couldn’t find an easy path,” he confessed, shaking his head. “Everything is very steep. But... I think there’s something else we can try.”
“Something else?” Varen asked, frowning. But Korik had already turned away, reaching under his bedroll and blankets for the woven wooden panel that he’d created to help keep the snow out of their den during the storm. It was too large to fit into either of their bags, but Korik had wanted to keep it. The orc had taken to placing it under his bedroll to create an extra layer between his bed and the dirt. When they traveled, he positioned it over his rucksack to keep the snow off.
Korik eyed it for a moment, then looked between it and Varen.
“A sled,” he finally said, gesturing at the panel. “We can use it to get down the slope more easily.”
Varen looked at it for a long moment, unsure if it would be sturdy enough to get both of them down the mountain in one piece; but he couldn’t stop the grin that was splitting his features.
“That sounds fun,” he laughed. Despite his lingering worry, itdidhave its appeal. Even if it didn’t get them all the way down the mountain, it would ease some of the burden of getting down the steepest part. And if they crashed into something… well, he had seen Korik heal all sorts of injuries now. Plus, with both of them able to use their magic, steering such an unsuitable vessel wouldn’t be too much of a concern.
“Unless you have any better ideas...” Korik prompted, but Varen shook his head.
“Nope. I told you, I’m trusting you with all this,” he said. Korik flushed, nodding; but a small, pleased smile hovered over his lips for a moment before he answered.
“I think this is our best option,” the orc said.
“Then let’s go,” Varen agreed.
They finished packing, then Varen followed Korik until they came across the steep slope that he’d mentioned. Trees were luckily sparse here, and it wasn’t acompletelysheer drop; nevertheless, Varen’s heart started to race at the sight of it. It would absolutely be grueling to traverse by foot, if not entirely impossible. The sled would certainly be dangerous, but seemed a more viable option at first glance, than trying to climb down themselves.
Korik hesitated when they arrived, looking at Varen with hesitation.
“Still think it’s a good idea?” he asked, sounding nervous. Varen laughed despite his own mounting anxiety.
“Agoodidea? No,” he said with a grimace. “But I agree it’s our best bet. Trying to walk down is a worse idea, certainly.”
“We can try to build something sturdier,” Korik offered, but Varen shook his head.
“The sooner we can get down, the better,” he said. “Come on. Let’s just get it over with. Whatever happens, happens.”
Korik looked at him with a strange expression for a long moment. Varen had gotten better at reading the orc’s face in the past few weeks, he thought; but Korik often had a more stoic expression in general, and sometimes Varen still found him difficult to read, like now. He couldn’t quite tell if Korik was afraid, or if he feared that Varen had finally lost whatever sanity he might have been clinging to. Maybe both were true.
“We’re going to die on this mountain if we don’t try,” Varen added, lowering his voice slightly. For all that he resorted to teasing and jokes when he was worried, in this he was entirely serious. “So it doesn’t matter how dangerous. If it has a chance of getting us down the mountain and into kinder territory, it’s better odds than just staying here. Or backtracking. We have to just keep pushing on ahead.”
Korik was still silent for a long moment, absorbing. He took his time to think about what he wanted to say, Varen knew, so he waited until he’d had a moment to collect his thoughts.
“You’re right,” he finally responded, then pulled the wooden panel off his back. “How should we do this, then?”
Varen laughed again. He had been expecting more than a simple ‘you’re right,’ but it seemed fitting considering all they were facing. “Gods, it’s been decades since I’ve been sledding. The bigger person is in the back when it’s two to a sled, right?”
Korik nodded. They took a moment to situate themselves on the makeshift sled: it was a little too wide, but had some flexibility when Varen grabbed the sides. It would be more like trying to slide down the snow in a basket than a true sled, but it was better than nothing. Korik kept his rucksack on his back, but Varen took his off and set it in front of him, using his legs to hold it in place. He leaned back a bit, pressing himself flush to Korik’s chest—he could feel the rapid rhythm of the orc’s heart thudding against his shoulder.
They carefully pushed themselves to where the relatively flat surface gave way to the slope. Korik’s arms were tight and warm around his waist. Varen peered across the slope, mentally mapping the route they would take. Eventually, the clear path curved around the hill, and he couldn’t see anything beyond that, so he could only hope that they could find a path as they went.
“I’ll steer as much as I can,” he said over his shoulder to Korik. “But I’ll need you to lean with me to help, so just follow my lead. If you see something, just call out a direction, and I’ll do what you say. Sounds good?”
