Hs stood on the cliff. The wind assaulted his person, catching under his hat and blowing it off. He snatched it out of the air.

Slowly, he brought his hand down and rested it on his horse’s neck. He turned his head to look at the mountains rising up from the gorge.

The early morning light rounded their edges, making them seem gentle. He knew better. Carved circular patterns traced their open faces. They glowed with an otherworldly white. He supposed that made sense.

He got off his horse. She flicked her tail at him in curiosity. She didn’t know, and he needed it that way. He couldn’t take any chances.

So he sat down on the rock under the overhang of the boulder. And he waited.