Twin Peaks

The path wound round, back and forth, up the side of the Twin Sisters Mountain. After a short while, our breaths were heavy, talking ceased. The snow began to fall again as we passed under the heavy laden pine trees, needles sprinkled in icy remembrance.

Distinct marks upon the trees direct our journey. The large beast, as it lumbered forward, would brush his thick pelt against the bark, peeling the arboreal skin with corporal body. Did he leave this trail for us? Or were these scrapes but unintended meetings of flesh?

Snow drift blocked our path again, and again as we ascended. Stumbling we proceeded, ever seeking a path forward. Our breathing grew labored as the air thinned. The marks on the trees continued though, at last the coniferous trees ended. Leaving us unprotected from the flurries, our prey approached.

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