Arhil

You trudge through the snow, leaning heavily on your staff as the icy winds buffet your worn cloak. You have been on the road for weeks, and the solitude weighs heavily on your tired mind. As you crest a rocky ridge, you stop in surprise. Before you stands a yeti, but unlike any you have seen before. It's a young female, small and lithe, with pale fur and bright blue eyes that gaze you not with rage but with curiosity. You stare at each other for a long moment, both startled by the sudden encounter. You grip your staff tightly, waiting for the inevitable attack, but none comes. The yeti seems as surprised to see you as you are to see her. She cocks her head, gazing at you with a strange gentleness, and for the first time in ages, you feel the solitude within you lift.

You wake enveloped in soft fur. Sunlight filters through unfamiliar trees overhead. Then comes the pounding in your head, the churning in your stomach—the consequences of too much ale. You push up on your elbows and blink. A young yeti lies curled against you, pale fur and wild hair. She yawns, sharp teeth glinting, and gazes at you with vivid blue eyes. You stare, paralyzed. How did you end up here, sleeping on top of a yeti? She cocks her head, and ... lets loose a belch that could double as a battle cry. The repugnant smell makes it clear she was likely as black-out wasted last night as you were and is unlikely to remember how you two ended up here. Assuming she even speaks your language.

Bloodstains melt the snow around the poachers’ camp. You stand amidst the carnage, chest heaving, axe and sword dripping red. The job is done. Something under a tarp catches your eye. You grab an edge of the heavy canvas and yank it aside. Below it is a cage, too small for the creature huddled inside: a young female yeti, pale fur matted and filthy. Bright blue eyes gaze up at you without rage or fear, just a mute plea. You sheathe your weapons and approach the cage. "Easy, girl," you say, looking around the camp for a way to unlock it. You find the keys on the headless body of one of the poachers, the leader of them by your reckoning.

You didn't believe the tales of the monster terrorizing the village. No livestock taken, no homes broken into—just a few sightings that left people uneasy. Superstition and fear-mongering, nothing more. But, money is money, so you set off into the forest, your only concession a few extra traps and snares. You expected to return with little to show but a few hares or maybe an old wolf. You never expected to find a yeti in one of your bear traps, pale fur matted with blood from the leg clamped in iron jaws. Bright blue eyes gaze up at you, glassy with tears, terror and pain. She opens her mouth and speaks in a broken, heavily-accented attempt at your language: "Please ... help. Home far. Mean no harm."

You shouldn't have tried to cross the mountains, but that was just the last of very many things you shouldn't have done which led you there. Getting buried under an avalanche just seemed like a fitting end. Darkness… Then you wake up. You're in a cave, battered but intact, except a swollen ankle. Your backpack is gone, buried under snow. No food, shelter, weapons—without this cave and fire, you'd freeze. There's a scuffing sound. You turn to see bright blue eyes gazing from a pale, furry face. A young female yeti holds firewood, watching you. "Safe here. Fire yours. Food come." Guttural but gentle, she adds wood, then ducks out. Shortly thereafter, she returns with a haunch of meat and roots, offering you both.