Twilight darkened the sky with a beautiful shade of royal purple in a fading gradient juxtaposing on the vivid red vista. Hazy stratus clouds cut past the mountain as the cold breezy wind pushed them ever onward. In between openings in the cloud exposed a thickly covered soft white surfaces broke apart by dark evergreen pines and large rocks and boulders.

Heavy grey clouds slowly loomed in our direction, floating at a higher altitude than those below us. They wouldn't reach us quite yet, but their mere appearance was an omnipresent reminder that there would be snowfall that coming night.

Kneeling over a pile of supplies and equipment I had looted, the girl tapped me on the shoulder and timidly queried, "How do I find which way north is?"

I shrugged my shoulders and responded, "I don't know, actually. I was hoping you knew."

She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms.

"So, you mean, I was wasting my time doing nothing."

I could understand her frustration with me. I made her look like a fool by giving her a pointless task to have her feel like she was helping. It was how someone might treat a bored kid during a crisis.

This girl looked like a kid to me, and despite me knowing that to not be the case, I still felt some subconscious restraint in treating her like the adult she was.

I found her attractive before, but this new form wasn't doing it for me.

Although I didn't find her physically appealing, I could still feel the remnants of my previous feelings for her. I knew I couldn't have ever had a woman like her. And so, it was for that very reason that I wanted to be the only one who could protect her.

This desire to protect her was not formed for her well-being, but rather so I could selfishly stop others from getting close to her. I wanted her to become dependent on me. I wanted her to never stand up for herself. Because if she did, then she wouldn't need me. And I would be left behind—like always.

I hardly knew her, and yet I still had these intentions.

It was illogical and cruel to feel this way—I knew that much very well. However, I couldn't help myself but feel a tidbit giddy with the circumstances as they were. It was like I was granted a once in a lifetime opportunity to push myself on her. It was wrong, and I felt excited.

What's wrong with me?

Pushing it out of my mind, I recovered from my daze to see the girl swigging down a bottle of water she found from the pile.

My eyes fell to the floor as I apologized, "I'm sorry you got wrapped up in this mess. I'm probably the last person you want to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with."

Dropping the empty bottle back into the pile, she shook her head, replying, "No, don't be. I'm the one that should be sorry. It's—"

She paused as her temperate expression shifted to one of repentant shame.

I was blindsided by the words that escaped her lips. I wondered for what reason she could feel sorry for something that was entirely not her fault.

Struggling to come up with words that could ease her unfounded guilt, I stammered, "N-No, it's not your fault. It was mine. I made the choice to go up to the farmer's house. That was all me—"

"And how about when you fell down into the ravine?!! Was that your fault too?!!" She yelled quite suddenly.

"U-Uh. I-I…" The words eluded me.

Her voice began to falter as she delicately wept, "I already told you that it wasn't your fault… Because… It was my fault."

I reached my hand out to console her, but she stepped away.

"It was my actions that had a cause and effect. My actions got you trapped in the corner of the building, and my actions made you leave the safety of the group," the girl sobbed and sniffled.

I woefully whimpered, "No, that's not true—"

She grimaced with frustration.

"It is my fault! Why won't you just accept it instead of always blaming yourself—!"

I snatched her by the wrist and forcefully declared, "You couldn't have possibly known that any of that would happen. And the mere fact that you feel that way is a thousand times more solace than I could've ever hoped for. So, don't ever say or think those words again. I'd never blame you for any of it. Not even a little bit."

She fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around me, whaling and crying.

I pulled her into my shoulder and gently sighed, "I'll make sure you're safe no matter what happens… So please, just say that you won't ever—?"

I caught my words before I finished the question. Had I slipped up and revealed, my insecurities and ulterior motive would've been exposed.

She sniffled and answered, "No. I won't ever leave you."

My body went stiff at hearing this. Not only did the girl piece together what I was about to ask, but she gave me the answer that I so desperately wanted.

My stiffened muscles relaxed as I let my arms fall to the ground. The girl tugged harder, intent on hiding her face from me.

She stifled her tears and snickered, "You smell awful."

Taking in a deep breath and harshly exhaling, I retorted, "Yeah? Well, so do you."

We laughed as she backed away. She was smiling—something that I thought would've been impossible given the situation.

Pointing at a large blue hiking bag, I acknowledged, "There's a propane-fueled heater strapped to that bag. Take this sleeping bag and head inside."

She nodded and grabbed the bag and heater, turning to head inside the roc's warm cavernous mouth. As she did so, I remembered that I had yet to even learn her name.

I courteously inquired, "Miss, what's your name?"

She stopped right as she was about to step inside, turning back to say, "It's Charlotte. Charlotte Moore."

"Charlotte, huh? That's a beautiful name, Charlotte."

Charlotte gave me a warm smile and returned the question.

"What's your name?"

I contemptuously remarked, "My name is Henry Miller. It's a pretty boring name, but I don't get to choose it so—"

"No, I don't think so. Henry Miller sounds like the name of a hardened soldier."

I brought my finger to my chin.

"Huh. Never thought of it that way."

Stepping inside, she queried, "Are you coming? It's getting dark."

I shook my head and said, "Go without me. I'm not tired. Plus, there is something I still want to do."

She looked interested but didn't pry. Heading inside the mouth of the beast, she sat down and began setting up the heater.

I grabbed a bowie knife off the loot pile and walked around the side of the lifeless roc to the white feathery tuft of its chest. I wasn't too confident as I hadn't read it for myself, but I remembered that Adam told me the first tutorial mentioned there being experience crystals near the heart in monsters.

Without hesitation, I stuck the lifeless beast with the blade and began sawing away at the tough muscle hidden beneath its dirtied feathers. Blood poured from the incision soaked the white plumes crimson red, as the poultry flesh yielded to the blade's sharpness.

It would take an hour or more, but I had to see for myself whether what Adam said was true.