She lies naked on the lichened rocks, fetal in her fatigue, knees and visible shoulder bruised by missteps on the climb so far. Her soles are dirtied, her hands likely the same but obscured beneath dark strands as they pillow her head. When she wakes, her soul and body refreshed or further torn by dreams, the struggle will continue as it must. For now, the bear’s chin at her neck as it guards, at least the present is secured. This alone matters.