GAHRYE
Gahrye landed in the dusty dirt inside the portal with a moan of pain. It took a second to assess himself, his body and to realize exactly how deeply in the shit he was.
He wasn't bleeding. He didn't have a knife. There was a bear on the other side of the portal in a fever dream, who believed if he came out of here, he came with the voices. Gahrye had no doubt Gawhr would tear out his throat if he attempted to go back—and he wasn't even sure the Portal would let him.
As soon as he moved from this spot the voices would descend, and he was unprotected—his wounds all clean and dry. And even if he could find a way… he wasn't sure his leg would work. He was going to have to drag himself through the traverse naked.
His heart raced. Could he do it again? Cross the traverse without the protection of the blood?
He had to. He had to get through here. He had to get to Kalle.
He began to shake.
There was only one answer.
