10th of Vhalar, Arc 719
The pleading shouts echoed across the vast icy wilderness far from the city of Viden. Around the distance of the elevated slope of artic snow, a range of mountains loomed darkly against the dawn. Sherbet orange and yellows blended on the horizon of the deep blue sky. Wisps of clouds gathered together to prepare for another trial of moderate snowfall.
From Crevil's camp, he would witness a silhouetted figure running down the slope. With the dawnlight at their back, they ran westward... if one could call the desperate attempts forward 'running'. Whoever it was, they slipped, slid, and stumbled their way across the snow drifts. They gave another shout. "Please, I beg! Help me!"
In a pitch forward, the figure fell. They tumbled in furs through the snow along the slope until they landed directly in Crevil's camp. The mixed-blood boy would see an older human with a thick gray whisker beard, and mint green eyes. One of his eyes looked swollen, with a gathered bruise as if he'd recently been hit across the head with something heavy and blunt.
The man laid on his back, gasped for breath, rust-colored blood smudged across his wrinkled face. He held onto his side, where his patchwork fur cloak drifted aside to reveal dark bloodstains on his insulated leathers. A bandolier crossed over his torso, with various tightly-stitched leather satchels and holders on it.
Coughs racked from the stranger, and he reached out for Crevil to come to his side. He asked, "Do you have bandages? A fire? Water? Please... they'll soon find me."