You follow the edge of creek, carefully picking your way through the scrubby debris. Trees have fallen across the water in various places, angrily tangling their roots and branches with bunches of long-rotted leaves. The water is choked with jagged ice. It moves sluggishly towards a wide pool that reflects the sky like black glass.

Suddenly, there is a horrible crack as fragile underbrush gives way, then a sharp yelp as Roth plunges out of sight beneath the ground. There is a sick thudding sound, then a silence that sucks the air out of your lungs. The hole Roth disappeared into glares out of the ground like a baleful eye.

“Roth?” Halpra calls softly, clearly thinking of the fox in the woods. Silence. Then, from far below comes a muffled answer.

“Here! The fall knocked the wind out of me.”

You exhale in relief. “Did you break anything?” you ask.

“I don’t think so,” he replies.

“Can you climb out by yourself?” Halpra asks, carefully moving to the edge of the hole.

A long pause. “No. The walls are too smooth. I think this is an abandoned beaver den.”

Knotting the rope to a thick root, Haplra feeds the other end into the darkness. “Can you reach the end of this rope?”

“No. It ends high above me.”

Halpra looks back at you and shakes her head. “This is all the rope we have.” The late afternoon sun is filtering through the trees, turning everything golden. Halpra’s face is bathed in amber. She looks weary and exhausted.

“Roth,” she calls, “We need more rope. I need you to stay here until we get to Mossden and send back a rescue party. Stand clear, I’m dropping you more food and water.” There is a muffled sound as it hits the bottom of the pit.