The silent steps of two solitary travelers. Wind, ruffling the thick fur, lining their capes. Snow, crunching under their heavy boots was all that could be heard, along with their breaths, creating clouds of mist before their faces.
Anoriel sighed. "Athran, please, stop... I can't continue..." she pleaded him. They have been going for a day already, and she needed a break. Athran, however, only shook his head, peering at the frozen fields of ice on the surface of the sea. "We can't stop. We must continue. There's not enough food and nothing to hunt anywhere near. We have to go on... Come on. I'll take your bag." he replied, and reached out to take the bundle of things at her back.
The elf-maiden shook her head. "No. I only need a short while... Don't worry... Don't take the bag. I can carry it." trying to catch her breath, she bent above her knees. Athran let out a worried sigh. They had to reach Hyoite fast, or they would risk getting lost in the tundra and freezing to death, without food.
Athran pulled the scarf, covering his face from the cold wind, higher, to cover all of his face. He could walk for many miles, but his sister wasn't used to the cold weather of the tundra.
Suddenly, a sound of a loud crack echoed in the air. Both elves immediately turned back, to see thin cracks opening in the frozen earth. Athran's eyes widened with surprise and horror. They were on solid ground... This wasn't natural. He grabbed Anoriel's shoulder.
"Something is happening. There's a big hole in the ground..." he muttered. She only nodded, terrified. They both reached for their weapons...