Derek

As we settled in again, zipping tightly into our bivy sacks against the biting wind, I heard Thomas mutter softly from nearby, "'Hey, Jace?' Yeah? You don't really think something's out here, right? I hesitated. I don't know, I replied honestly. Something's just off. He went silent, and soon I heard his breathing deepen. I lay awake longer, listening to the quiet hush of wind through stone.

As we settled in again, zipping tightly into our bivy sacks against the biting wind, I heard Thomas mutter softly from nearby, "'Hey, Jace?' Yeah? You don't really think something's out here, right? I hesitated. I don't know, I replied honestly. Something's just off. He went silent, and soon I heard his breathing deepen. I lay awake longer, listening to the quiet hush of wind through stone.

Just before sleep took me, I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes, unseen, unknowable, fixed steadily upon our tiny camp, waiting patiently beyond the confines of that impossible circle.

Just before sleep took me, I couldn't shake the feeling of eyes, unseen, unknowable, fixed steadily upon our tiny camp, waiting patiently beyond the confines of that impossible circle.

sleep came in fits and starts that night my mind unable to fully shake the uneasy sensation brought on by the circle of bare earth every rustle of fabric from tomas every distant creak of shifting ice seemed amplified in the quiet stillness of sky pond

sleep came in fits and starts that night my mind unable to fully shake the uneasy sensation brought on by the circle of bare earth every rustle of fabric from tomas every distant creak of shifting ice seemed amplified in the quiet stillness of sky pond

some time after midnight i heard something distinct thin rhythmic clicks carried on the cold air they were faint intermittent and initially i dismissed them as natural ice-cracking or distant rockfall but something about the cadence felt deliberate I lay still, ears straining in the darkness, heart drumming softly in my chest. The clicks faded, swallowed by the whisper of wind.

some time after midnight i heard something distinct thin rhythmic clicks carried on the cold air they were faint intermittent and initially i dismissed them as natural ice-cracking or distant rockfall but something about the cadence felt deliberate I lay still, ears straining in the darkness, heart drumming softly in my chest. The clicks faded, swallowed by the whisper of wind.

Morning came reluctantly, the sun climbing slowly above the jagged ridgeline, spilling pale light across the landscape. I pushed myself up, rubbing sleep from weary eyes, and was immediately alert again. Outside the circle's perimeter, right where the snow resumed, I saw something new. Footprints. Huge, elongated indentations in the snow, perfectly clear against the bright, untouched powder.

Morning came reluctantly, the sun climbing slowly above the jagged ridgeline, spilling pale light across the landscape. I pushed myself up, rubbing sleep from weary eyes, and was immediately alert again. Outside the circle's perimeter, right where the snow resumed, I saw something new. Footprints. Huge, elongated indentations in the snow, perfectly clear against the bright, untouched powder.

Without waking Tomás, I climbed out of my bivy, carefully approaching the tracks. They were deep, clearly defined, with a broad stance, far wider than my own stride, suggesting something large and bipedal.

Without waking Tomás, I climbed out of my bivy, carefully approaching the tracks. They were deep, clearly defined, with a broad stance, far wider than my own stride, suggesting something large and bipedal.

they started abruptly just outside the edge of the circle as if whatever made them had materialized out of thin air the footprints continued steadily uphill so i followed them each step required an exaggerated stretch the prints sat unnaturally far apart Soon I came to a point high on an open slope where the tracks simply stopped, mid-stride. The last print was pressed firmly then. Nothing.

they started abruptly just outside the edge of the circle as if whatever made them had materialized out of thin air the footprints continued steadily uphill so i followed them each step required an exaggerated stretch the prints sat unnaturally far apart Soon I came to a point high on an open slope where the tracks simply stopped, mid-stride. The last print was pressed firmly then. Nothing.

No indication of turning around, no sidestepping, no evidence of a jump or climb. Just snow and emptiness. I scanned upward. No trees, no rocks, nowhere something could have logically gone. My heart thudded harder, my throat dry with growing uncertainty.

No indication of turning around, no sidestepping, no evidence of a jump or climb. Just snow and emptiness. I scanned upward. No trees, no rocks, nowhere something could have logically gone. My heart thudded harder, my throat dry with growing uncertainty.

i crouched and studied the final print more closely noting its unsettling length easily twice that of my climbing boot what are you doing thomas's voice broke through my thoughts he was standing just below hands cupped around a steaming mug Come here, take a look, I called back, trying to mask the unease in my voice. He climbed up beside me, frowning down at the prints.

i crouched and studied the final print more closely noting its unsettling length easily twice that of my climbing boot what are you doing thomas's voice broke through my thoughts he was standing just below hands cupped around a steaming mug Come here, take a look, I called back, trying to mask the unease in my voice. He climbed up beside me, frowning down at the prints.

He looked back toward camp, then slowly upward, following their impossible trajectory. Okay, he admitted finally, voice quiet, cautious. That's definitely not normal. I told you, I muttered softly. Something's off here. Tomas sighed deeply, nodding slowly. Maybe someone's messing with us? "'Out here?' I countered. "'Who would hike in this deep just to leave tracks like these and disappear?

He looked back toward camp, then slowly upward, following their impossible trajectory. Okay, he admitted finally, voice quiet, cautious. That's definitely not normal. I told you, I muttered softly. Something's off here. Tomas sighed deeply, nodding slowly. Maybe someone's messing with us? "'Out here?' I countered. "'Who would hike in this deep just to leave tracks like these and disappear?