No, it was better to keep his mouth shut. She was probably just naturally flirty, and he was reading way more into the wink than he should be.
So, he just smiled and finished pulling together the hunting gear.
Staying downwind of the stream, they found separate spots that offered cover from any animals that might approach the stream for a drink. Then all they could do was wait.
It wasn’t a bad way to spend the morning. The summer was disappearing faster in the high altitude. The sun was warm, but the wind remained cool, carrying with it the faintest hint of snow. Eno wasn’t sure if the smell was from the snow-capped peaks or if it was the promise of what was to come too soon.
Just as his brain started to worry about how long he’d been away from the camp, a trio of mountain goats wandered close to the stream from the far side. They weren’t quite as big as he’d been hoping they’d find, but if they could bag two of the three, it would hold them for at least a couple of days.
Lying on his stomach, Eno positioned the crossbow just right, staring down the bolt as he aimed for the one closest to him. Its brown and white coat nearly blended into the background while stubby little horns protruded from its head. Just as he placed his finger against the trigger, a soft twang echoed through the valley and an arrow sliced through the air, unerringly hitting the farthest goat. Vale’s prey dropped, and the other two goats spooked.
Eno squeezed the trigger, sending the deadly bolt screaming across the valley into the other goat. The bolt hadn’t hit exactly where he wanted, but it was still enough to bring down his goat.
“Ha!” Vale shouted, jumping to her feet.
A low chuckle left Eno’s lips and he pushed into a sitting position. “Nice shooting.”
“You too! Can you grab the rope from my horse? We can string them up and let them drain for a big while we see if we can bag anything else?”
“You don’t want to head back?” Eno called as he pushed to his feet.
Vale had been crossing the field and stopped to look up at the sky. Eno smiled. She was judging the time. “I think we can give it another hour, maybe two. It’s not even noon yet. We’re not going to make any progress today. Best to hunt and get some good supplies.”
Eno nodded. She knew the area best, and they could all use the rest. Tomorrow they could set out early and maybe even make up for some lost time if the terrain and weather held in their favor.
He grabbed the rope as Vale asked and started across the field to where she was already kneeling beside their goats.
Something was wrong.
Eno’s steps slowed to a stop in the middle of the field and he turned, taking in everything around him. The tall grass waved gently in the breeze, bending toward the west. Not a sound could be heard beside the wind and the soft babble of the stream over the rocks. Nothing moved but the water, the grass, and Vale.
But something itched along his spine. They were being watched. Stalked. Hunted.
He didn’t know where the feeling came from, but he didn’t question it. That damn itch had kept him and Caelan alive over the years.
Sucking in a breath, Eno prepared to tell Vale to be on her guard, but it was already too late.
A white-and-gray blur launched its powerful body out of the grass, crossing the stream in just a couple of strides and flying through the air toward Vale, who kneeled over the goat. His heart leaped into his throat and he fumbled for the crossbow strapped across his back, but he was out of time.
Vale dove forward under the snow leopard so that the powerful cat ended up jumping completely over her. The angry snarl cut across the valley and rocks sprayed under its paws as it landed. The beast twisted to lunge at her and Eno caught the silvery flash of a blade in the sunlight.
But he had his own problems. As he pulled the crossbow around his body, a snow leopard jumped at him, black claws extended to rip flesh from bone. He squeezed the trigger, burying a bolt into the creature’s chest. Fingers snatched up another bolt and were in the middle of setting it in place when a third leopard jumped at him.
His heart pounded in his chest so hard he thought it was going to break free. He didn’t have time to think. Only react. Releasing the crossbow, he dove out of the way, narrowly missing the cat. When he rolled up to his feet, a knife was in his hand. Claws grazed his left biceps before he could slam the blade home in the creature’s throat.