Solitude's End

Low on berries, exhausted by the last of the mushrooms - they carry so little water, their plump gills shriveling in this cursed dark arid desert; under me, the ground rumbles with its footsteps, one after the other, inexorable, inescapable, inevitable. I have one path of escape, one chance to flee, and it takes all my bloody-mindedness not to use it now...or now...or now. There must be something else to draw its attention; I need a distraction.
I've seen that damn giant raven again, briefly, as it wheeled across the corner of the sky. I wonder if it's Hers.
Grateful I've done nothing personally to offend Her. Grateful to have kept my name from Her mouth - though there is that awful twinge, this damned twisting of our lives, still, after all these years. Can't ever quite get away from her, not really, not even crossing a continent, beginning a new life - here I am, in this awful half-light, in a place she would relish, a place she would move silently and without complaint. Yet it's me here, not her - godless in the God-dwelling place.
 
Plod, rumble, drag, plod. All day, all night. Sometimes I wonder if it's trying to smell me. I stay silent and still, against this crumbling ruin, the only steady companion we have here. How long have I been at this? I can't last much longer. Not sure I want to.
 
We reach out, we scan, we beg. Sometimes there's a snatch of sleep, but never enough. If I could predict when that damn giant bird is preparing to swoop by, I could activate my last best chance to survive, call up a blinding mount and fly the hells away from here - but here, nothing is reliable.
 
 
Wait.
Wait - WAIT.
Gustavo?! Is this possible? STAY BACK - OR HURRY TO ME. HURRY!