Tarchon shrugged off his knapsack and sprinted up the tree as though he were half-squirrel. There was no one around that he could see of, which meant more of the land to himself. Veren wouldn't come along this time, unfortunately. He was, again, too afraid of getting caught. No one ever wanted to venture this far into the woods, for it usually meant crossing into the borders of the kingdoms of men. The last time the woodland elves crossed those borders, less than half had returned alive. As he leaped up into the upper branches, he swatted at a bee that seemed to take immense interest in his head. He enjoyed the view from this height, but there was always a much more adventurous feel to being this high up in lands he he should not be. But what his father did not know would not hurt him. As his eyes wandered over to the river, he spotted an unfamiliar object lying on the banks. He could not make it out from this distance, but it certainly did not look like something that belonged in these woods. He leaped from his branch and darted off in the direction of the mystery object. Whatever it was, it was not moving. Perhaps it was a dead deer? As he peered through the bushed at the object, however, he immediately realized it was not in fact a deer. It was a girl, and she could very well be dead. Without hesitation, he sprinted towards the body and lifted her, pulling her away from the water. A large gash was visible on the side of her head, but she was still breathing. It was slow and shallow, however, which meant he would have to hurry home as quickly as possible. But there was no telling if she would be able to last that long.