Sawtooth Spire illumination

if he was lucky maplesmoke would find a place to hide and to rest, but it seemed as if his luck had run out.

he was ambling among the stones. sometimes the shadows hit the rubble of the mountainside in a way that confused him, and sometimes there was too much moss for the sake of stability, and sometimes the roots of trees choked the path and he had to stop; but to stop mean to die, and so he would go to wedge himself along the trail even if it meant making something new.

on more than one occasion he felt the terror of the lonely herbivore: that he was being watched, and that he was being followed, which forced him to be quicker on his feet than what was possible—or to take a turn when he should have taken another.

he did not yet know that he was trailed by more than one; let alone that one might be a friend, one a foe.