WOOOOOHH!!!
The gusts split senses.
The moment he stepped out, the storm sank its teeth back into him.
"Haaa..."
With no form of communication, they had to survive until.....anything.
They couldn't give in.
"Haaa....haa..."
WOOOOHH!!
They needed to survive...
Food.
But in this climate?
Riven stared at the fogged, white expanse.
It drowned everything.
His vision didn't allow him to distinguish anything in detail around him.
WOOOH!!
The continuous whispers of every gust did not help.
He was on edge.
Crunch.
That sound.
Riven froze, his grip tightening on Mael's Fang.
That sound could have been the wind....
Or....it could have been him.
He moved through the haze, frost striking his face, forcing him to move with an arm shielding.
WOOOOHHH!
Cough!
The storm wailed, dragging his breath.
He coughed, a raw echo that felt like it carried for miles.
Too loud.
Crunch. Crunch.
Every step sank into silence, that wasn't silence at all.
Crunch. Crunch.
The faint outline of a bridge appeared through the fog of frost.
It wasn't far from the cave.
A landmark he could use later on.
WOOOOHH!!
"Haaa...Haaa."
Snow swirled all around.
Those grey eyes attempted to scan his surroundings, as his head slowly turned.
WOOOSSHH!!
A shadow moved in the white.
Riven froze....
It was nothing.
Just the surroundings sculpting ghosts.
"Haa.."
Breath clawed out his chest in clouds that burned his lungs raw; the paranoia was beginning to affect him.
He lowered his gaze, eyes stinging under the blizzard.
That was when he saw them--
indentations in the snow.
Uneven.
Heavy.
Almost half-swallowed by falling snow and drifting frost.
His hands were cold as ice, pale as the snow itself, but he lowered himself all the same.
The trails led rightward of the bridge, travelling deeper into the unknown.
WOOOOHH!!
Fingers pressed into the indent.
Hard with frost...but recent.
It wasn't human.
The air shifted.
WOOOOHHH!!!
His head jerked up, heart beginning to cloud his ears.
Thump-
"Haa..."
Breaths clouded in the storm; nothing but haze.
Nothing but frost.
He pushed up, Mael's Fang heavy in hand.
It whispered to him.
His gut said turn back.
His stomach...
Grrr...
He kept going.
Crunch.
Every few steps the trail blurred, swallowed, then returned.
WOOOHH!!
It was as if the storm wanted him lost.
Wanted to erase it.
Crunch.Crunch.
'...Cold'
It was.
His body was beginning to shake slightly, as his vision darkened at edges.
He blinked hard, shivers running.
Shapes danced in the white.
Crunch.Crunch.
WOOOHH!!
A shadow.
A branch.
A figure...
Maybe nothing.
He lowered his eyes again, praying for the tracks.
Still there.
It's uneven formula ever present.
Crunch.Crunch.
WOOOOOHHH!
The storm howled again, and he felt it.
The pressure of something, anything in this white expanse.
Watching.
Waiting.
"Haa...."
Crunch.Crunch.
His vision clung back to the tracks.
Closer.
They cut rough in the snow, claws dragging with uneven weight pressing.
Whatever made them, it wasn't far.
"Haaa...."
He crouched low, breath tight as his throat pained.
The storm bit at his ears.
WOOOOH!
crunch. crunch.
Every step now had to be silent, even if the storm screamed over.
He didn't want to stay out long.
He couldn't.
Faint mist emerged from his lips, he could smell something.
It wasn't the storm.
It wasn't the ice.
It wasn't the wind.
Musky. Warm. Alive.
His eyes lowered, following the tracks until they curved into a shallow hollow in the snow.
There it was.
A shape, trembling against the frost, half-buried.
Fur an ash grey, thin from the season in size.
It pawed weakly at the ground, searching for roots beneath the ice.
The shape wasn't quite wolf, or dog.
Ribs ran like knives beneath its hide.
It was a scavenger.
The kind of beast that trailed behind stronger predators, feeding on what was left.
The scavenger froze, its muzzle crusted with frost, eyes dim with hunger.
Riven's grip trembled slightly.
He could almost feel the thing's ribs under its fur, his own stomach gnawed the same....
WOOOOOHHHH!
For a heartbeat, it wasn't beast and boy.
It was two creatures trying not to die in Frostveil.
As the storm howled, the world didn't wait.
SHING!
He vanished, steps silent under the wind.
The beast yelped once, muffled by the snow.
WOOOOOHHH-
Then it stilled.
Riven stood there, chest rising hard.
The weight of the blade dropped his arm low.
His stomach twisted; part from hunger, part from what he'd done.
He'd done the deed quickly, something he told himself to ease the pain.
WOOOOHHH!!
The blood steamed faintly in the cold, bitter and hot, as the animals light fell into dark.
"...sorry."
The word slipped before realisation could process.
For a moment, Rile's face surfaced in his mind; that first human kill.
It was messy, desperate.
He'd told himself it was different.
That man deserved it.
But standing over that beast, its chest still twitching, he couldn't tell the difference anymore.
Blood was blood.
Kill was kill.
Grrrr...
Hunger teared at him, forcing him down.
He bent, hands shaking, as he took the animal in silence.
WOOOOHHH!!
The heat faded quick.
Already the steam evaporated, leaving only the bite of snow.
The blood had stayed however; as he picked it up, he felt it run down his back.
Hot at first, then cold, it soaked into him.
He felt it trail along the old scar Jacob's beast had left.
The mark burned faintly beneath the flow of blood.
It was as if the wound remembered what he'd faced.
It was no longer just his.
The veil had claimed it too.
Step. Step.
Crunch. Crunch.
Snow dragged at his legs, each step sinking deep.
The storm pressed close, needling into his skin.
He trudged, the weight of the animal slowing him.
He pushed, head low, eyes blurred by haze.
WOOOOOHHH!
He looked down at the path he drew, trying to trail his own steps.
He had to find the bridge.
'...where?'
"ROOOOARRRRR!!!"
The air split.
A roar.
Not a howl.
It was something alive, vast.
So loud, it silenced the howls of wind.
He stopped. Every muscle locked, the carcass dragging him.
It was gone as quick as it came, leaving only the hiss of snow.
------------
Saphira's eyes fluttered open.
She heard a faint sound, as drips ran down.
Drip. Drip.
The storm hissed at the mouth of the cave, its noise dulled deeper.
She pushed herself up, breath shallow, and squinted past into the abyss.
There was a shape.
Drip. Drip.
For a second, she thought the storm had sculpted another mirage.
But then it moved....
High.
Broad.
Wrong.
Her hands clutched at the stone behind her.
A whisper of magic appeared silently, materialising as a protective measure.
Woooooh!
The shape shifted again....before it vanished.
A breath of relief almost escaped---
It was then Riven stumbled into view....a carcass dragged on top of his visage.
Blood and snow clung to him like formal wear.
He was back.
Her relief stilled when she saw his eyes.
Not cold.
Not distant.
Shaken.