At the very least, the night outside was quiet--no other lurking spiders waited outside, and no Eyehooks swept in from above. Though still cold, and dark, the area around Blackberry at least appeared empty.

Unfortunately, there was no sign, either, of the quillmouse. No flash or glimmer of gold lay nearby to guide the goose's way; unsurprising, perhaps, given the size of Hydra as a whole.

@Blackberry

Blackberry panted as she continued on, still looking in all the nooks and crannys for any sign of the glowing quillmouse, but she wasn't having much luck. Her rest and somewhat given back a bit of her strength, but her leg was still, well, in bad shape.

Checking to make sure there were no more spiders around, Blackberry sat herself on the ground and took some deep breaths to calm her raging heart. A small flood of magic came from her gem and traveled through her body. Again, the pain began to dissipate, but it didn't go away and the necrosis around the sting hadn't gone away just yet.

It was enough to keep going, though, and she stood, forging ahead deeper into the Crucible.

She continued to limp forward against the edge of the ravines, weary eyes still raking the area for any sign of a flash of blue or glowing gold. She was on edge, terrified of every move. Every breath of air was a spider's fangs just barely missing her throat, every twisting shadow was a vulture at last diving down to attack, every little sound was a scorpion leaning out to strike.

She'd never been so scared in her life. Probably for good reason, though - Hydra was truly a monster of a cave.

Her will was beginning to crack. The pain was getting to her. She just wanted to curl up and die because nothing had been this hard before. Being caged for cycles had been nothing, facing her past, her children, that had been as easy as breathing compared to the harshness of Hydra. She was almost glad, now, that, if she survived, she'd forget.

@Game Master Dark

It would take more searching, of course; there were many massive ravines and canyons, some hundreds of feet deep--with switchback trails and thick dead brush--in which the Quillmouse could hide.

But there was a trace: a faint golden sparkle that seemed to have been left along the ground, in places. A trail, at least, to follow; and for now, the night remained quiet.

@Blackberry

At one point, something flashed in the corner of Blackbery's vision and she immediately tensed, turning her head to face it. At first, she wondered if she was imagining the faint golden trace on the ground. But as she looked and stepped forward to get a different angle, she realized that it wasn't a hallucination. It was actually there.

Her heart soared with this tiny ray of hope and she immediately set off, still staying out of the open, but keeping her gaze locked firmly on the trail of gold. It had to lead her to the mouse. It had to. Because what else glowed like that? What else would leave a trail of glow like that on the ground?

@Game Master Dark

The trail was not a short one, though it was, at least, clear of enemies.

That did not mean that it was without its dangers, though. First, the Golden Quillmouse had wound its way up along a switchback trail--narrow, with loose soil and rock underfoot, off which an unwary or a weary traveller could fall at any time. This reached the top of a low mesa, and here the faintest golden sparkles led across its top. The plateau seemed to be one of the lowest, perhaps unattractive to the high-roosting Eyehooks; at the very least, none were roosting here. Only old, loose bones, should Blackberry make it this far, littered the rock.

From here, at the other side, a second trail led down: equally narrow, equally dangerous, and just as likely to pitch off an exhausted goose with one lame leg.

The trail, glittering here and there, then led down into a deep ravine: one steeped in darkness despite the approach of dawn, and with the dim rush of a river visible in its faraway floor. From the top of the mesa, Blackberry could likely see that the trail down would be nearly a mile of twisting curves, back and forth below one another, before finally settling into the ravine.

In the distance beyond lay the haze of the Dead Marshes.

Blackberry must roll for ascending the first trail, and again for descending the second. She may continue to attempt until she succeeds, unless she perishes in the fall or is too wounded or tired to continue. A critical fail will result in severe injury or death.

@Blackberry

She followed the trail for a while, stopping every so often to rest her leg, but generally making good progress. Now that she'd seen the end of the road, in a way, she was determined to continue and finish her journey. It gave her new hope that surged through her limbs like it was energy.

She followed the glowing trail until it began to twist upward, the ground beneath her talons growing dangerously unstable. She found herself struggling to forge her way up, stumbling every so often, and eventually having to resort to using her beak as a third leverage, since her injured foot was fighting it difficult to find purchase. Eventually, however, she made it up, heaving and panting with exertion.

Once she reached the top, her stomach dropped at the trail in front of her. It was long and just as difficult as the one she had just fought up. But the glow was definitely leading her this way, towards the marshes in the distance so she took a deep breath and began her descent.

It was a long process, carefully setting her feet down so that she didn't tumble all the way down, at some parts she actually completely turned herself around so that she could use her beak again to grip the rock as she descended. At one point, her leg suddenly cramped and she found herself beginning to slide. Panicking, she flailed, barely managing to grab on again before she lost her grip and was thrown into the ravine, probably to her death.

Trying to steady herself, calm herself, she continued. By the time she reached the bottom, she was trembling like a leaf, exhausted from the exertion, adrenaline still rushing through her head.

She tried to take another step forward, but found herself unable to take more then a couple of steps before her body collapsed. The climb had been utterly exhausting and it seemed the hour of rest she'd managed to get didn't matter anymore, or perhaps it had all been used up. She stayed there, on the ground, thinking for a moment that she should just say fuck it.

She had given up a long time ago, after all. She'd cursed herself and said that she'd just stay away, waste away, let herself just die because she deserved it, didn't she? After everything she'd done, she deserved to die. And she wanted that release so desperately because it was easier then living.

And it was certainly easier then this.

Why was she still going forward? Certainly not to live, because, in a way, if she finished, she would die anyways - she'd forget and be a new life. And if she failed and died, she was sure that Wilder would bring her back anyways - a new life. What was the difference then?

The answer didn't come to her immediately and, just for a second, she gave up. Went limp. Released herself and let the pain consume. But then Blueberry's face popped into her vision again, the real Blueberry, not the hallucination she'd seen in the desert, eyes brimming with gentle love. And she thought to herself, Even if I don't remember you, even if neither of us are the same, I'll still be alive to see you again. I could never forget you completely. And that's what gave her the strength she needed to push herself back to her feet and fight back against the pain.

A flood of emotion-driven magic ran through her body and she sighed at the strength of its refreshing touch. She could keep going. She could do this. She stepped forward, the trembling washed away by the healing, and continued to follow the glowing trail towards the marshes.

@Game Master Dark

The ravine was a broad one, and deep; Blackberry had descended far to enter it. At its floor ran the river: a very broad, but very shallow flow of water trickling over the rock. This had, in part, carved this canyon, and the water flowed for hundreds of yards before it'd exit into the marshes.

Here, though, the golden trail led to the water's edge. And that was good, for though it smelled a little metallic, it was still sweet, clean, and fairly fresh. It was water, and not poison; and at its edges grew all manner of plants, from sedges and grasses to ferns that trailed into the flow. None were large--likely purged by periodic floods--but there was food to eat, at least.

And the golden glow that darted in and out among them, in the distance, suggested that the Quillmouse wasn't far. It might have been scavenging off the plants, itself--or perhaps snagging and eating the moths and dragonflies that darted here and there over the running water.

A pair of Scale Deer were drinking upstream, and stepping daintily through the water. Undoubtedly such bounty would attract life--and that life, predators; but so far, it seemed clear enough.

@Blackberry