Right.

Staring up at the distant mountain rising beyond the path on the right, Orus began heading in its direction. The path ran along a sheer cliff face and wound through a small gorge, rising higher and higher as he went. The air began to chill, and only got colder the further he walked. When next he saw the mountain it was a good deal closer, and so he pressed on.

He eventually found signs of someone's recent passage, noting the footprints upon the cold earth and freshly-broken branches of what few trees there were around. The road seemed to end among the cliffs and boulders, but he soon spotted a cave not far up the hill. Sighing a cloud of fog, he pushed on up the incline, already tired of the long walk.

The tracks led to the small mouth of the cave—a tall, narrow space in the mountain with no roof but the bends in its path—and as he reached it Orus peered inside to see someone huddled in the middle of the dark space, shivering beside a pile of kindling. As they looked up he saw the face of a young woman, whose shaking hands fumbled with coaxing friction between two twigs. She didn't look like the girl he sought, however she seemed in need of aid all the same.

“Are you alright?” Orus asked, seeing the girl was rather pale, and scarcely dressed for the climate, huddled in a thin cloak with no furs.

Her long dark hair shook as it hung around her lean face. “P-please,” she stuttered, “could you... g-give me some help-p?” She spoke without much energy, seemingly twice as tired as he was.

Orus frowned, yet acquiesced, squeezing into the cave to sit by the girl. He took some flint from his pocket to strike a spark into the pile of twigs. As he did his best to breathe life into those sparks, the girl fell to her exhaustion upon the cave floor, curling up in her cloak but shivering still.

“Who are you?” he asked, but received no answer. As the fire began to crackle in earnest he noticed she remained dangerously at odds with the cold, and he thought he should help her more, lest she freeze to ****.