Chapter 2: Into the Unknown

Clark

Clark kept his eyes on the group ahead of him, his mind racing. The woman, Ygritte, hadn't spoken much since their brief exchange, but her words echoed in his mind. Things that aren't supposed to exist, but do. Her tone was serious, and something about the way she said it sent a shiver through him. What kind of world was this? What kind of creatures roamed this wilderness, beyond the "wild animals" that Ygritte had mentioned?

For now, though, there was no time to ponder it further. The wildlings—at least that's what he thought they were, from the few scattered comments he had overheard—were moving quickly, navigating through the snow-covered terrain as though they had been doing it for years. Clark had to push his own speed to keep up, his boots sinking slightly in the deep snow, but his strength and agility easily allowed him to cover the distance without struggle.

Tormund led the way, his tall frame cutting through the cold air like a towering shadow, while Ygritte trailed behind him, her eyes darting constantly in every direction, as if expecting something to emerge from the woods at any moment. Clark was still trying to assess the danger level. His instincts told him that he was being carefully watched, but that didn't bother him. In a place like this, being cautious was a survival skill.

They traveled in silence, the only sound being the crunch of snow beneath their feet and the occasional rustle of wind in the trees. It was almost eerie, how quiet it was. There was no chatter, no laughter. The wildlings seemed to move with a grim purpose, their faces hard with the weight of past hardships. Whatever their journey was, it was not for the faint-hearted.

Hours passed before they came to a small, natural shelter nestled between two large, jagged rocks. It wasn't much—just a crude overhang that provided a bit of relief from the wind and snow. Tormund signaled for the group to stop.

"We'll camp here for the night," he said, his voice rough from the cold. "The storm's getting worse, and we need to rest before moving on."

Clark nodded and found a place against the rock wall, away from the fire. He didn't want to intrude too much. His presence here was still tentative at best, and though he'd helped them, he wasn't sure how much they trusted him yet. He certainly didn't trust them completely either. After all, they had every reason to be suspicious of him. He was from another world entirely. Whatever else he did, his appearance alone was enough to raise questions.

As the others settled around the fire, Clark couldn't help but watch them. Ygritte and Tormund were speaking in low tones, their words lost in the wind. They had given him little information so far, and he had been careful not to ask too many questions. He couldn't afford to seem too curious about the wrong things, not yet.

He'd had experience being on the outside before. Being an alien—one who had grown up on Earth—had taught him that sometimes silence and observation were the only ways to understand a new situation. And in this place, silence was the best defense. It was only a matter of time before he understood the rules of this strange world, and for now, his best move was to wait.

---

Tormund

Tormund sat by the fire, his large hands wrapped around a cup of what appeared to be warm, murky water. He stared into the flames, his thoughts a mixture of suspicion and caution. The stranger—Clark—had proven useful, no doubt. He'd saved their lives, killing the creature with speed and precision. But Tormund wasn't one to be fooled easily. People didn't come from nowhere without a reason.

Ygritte was nearby, her eyes scanning the horizon as she always did. She was sharp, sharper than most, and Tormund trusted her instincts. If she thought there was something off about their new companion, it was worth listening to.

"I don't like it," Ygritte muttered, her voice low but clear.

Tormund raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He's hiding something," she said, her eyes still fixed on Clark, who was sitting at the edge of their camp, keeping to himself. "You saw the way he moved. There's no way he's just a traveler. He's too... precise."

Tormund grunted in agreement. He'd seen it too—the fluidity of Clark's movements, the way he had darted across the snow like it was nothing. Tormund had fought beasts, bandits, and the occasional king's soldier, but he'd never seen a man fight or move like that.

"And what's he wearing?" Ygritte continued. "Strange clothes. Doesn't look like anything any man in the north would wear."

"Could be a foreigner," Tormund said, but even he wasn't convinced by that answer.

Ygritte shot him a sharp look. "A foreigner, in the middle of the mountains? Out here, where no one comes unless they're fleeing or hunting? No, there's something more to him. I don't trust it."

Tormund took a long drink from his cup, then looked over at Clark, who hadn't moved from his spot by the fire. "He's useful. For now."

"Useful? You think he's just here to help?" Ygritte's voice was incredulous. "If he wanted to help, he'd tell us what he's really doing here. Why would he risk his life for us, a bunch of wildlings?"

Tormund didn't have an answer to that, but he wasn't going to let Ygritte's suspicions cloud his judgment. For now, Clark had done what was needed. He hadn't attacked, and he hadn't made any threats. He was a mystery, and mysteries were dangerous, but right now, the danger was manageable.

"Let's sleep on it," Tormund said, finally standing up and moving toward the fire. "Tomorrow, we move north again. We keep our distance, but we'll keep an eye on him."

Ygritte nodded, but she didn't look convinced. Tormund could see the worry in her eyes, and he couldn't entirely dismiss it.

---

Clark

As the night wore on, Clark sat by the fire, the heat from the flames a welcome relief from the biting cold. He could hear the low murmurs of conversation between Tormund and Ygritte, but he didn't understand enough of their language to make sense of it. The wind had picked up, and the storm outside was growing fiercer by the minute. It would make for a dangerous trek tomorrow, but at least for tonight, they had shelter.

Clark's mind wandered back to Earth. What had happened? What had he been fighting when the rift tore him away? He couldn't shake the feeling that something had followed him through the wormhole. Something that wasn't just a random anomaly, but something much more dangerous.

He hadn't been able to see it clearly, but when the rift had swallowed him up, he had felt the presence of something dark on the other side. The sensation was too faint to understand fully, but it had been enough to unsettle him. He couldn't remember much of his battle with the wormhole, just flashes of light and pain.

But one thing was certain: he had ended up here, in this strange world, with people who were as mysterious to him as the land itself. He had no idea where he was or how to get back to Earth, but for now, he had to focus on survival.

The wildlings—if that's what they were—were his best chance at answers. They knew this land better than anyone, and perhaps they had encountered other strange occurrences, or at least could help him understand where he was. But getting them to trust him wasn't going to be easy. It was clear that they were cautious, and rightfully so. He didn't belong here.

He glanced over at Tormund and Ygritte, who were still deep in conversation, their voices barely audible over the wind. He couldn't help but feel like a puzzle piece in a much larger game—one he didn't understand.

But for now, he would follow them. He had no other choice.

---

Tormund and Ygritte

As Tormund settled down for the night, he kept one eye on Clark, still wary but unwilling to dismiss the man just yet. There was too much he didn't know.

Ygritte, on the other hand, was already asleep, though Tormund could tell she wasn't entirely at ease. Neither of them trusted the stranger. But there was a time for suspicion, and there was a time for action. Tomorrow, they would find out exactly what Clark was made of.

But in the back of his mind, Tormund couldn't shake the thought that the stranger's arrival was no accident.