A dark shadow lingered between the tall, shrouded trees of the forest, a stain in the purity of the cold and unforgiving Arctic snow. Frail clouds of breath lingered on the frost-bitten air, soon swept away by the constant, subtle wind. The scenery was bath in white, a blanket of winter silence stretching out beyond time it would seem, to isolate this place from all others. Ethereal presence lingered behind every trunk and in every snap of a branch broken somewhere in the distance by the innocent snow that burdened its ill-equipped surface. A cry from nature for some reprieve of this harsh and miserable environment, but the wind would only howl louder, rushing to cover the carcass with a fresh blanket of snow.
A shadowy figure, contrasted perfectly against the wintry backdrop of the Arctic, crouched low beneath the thick, pine branches of a monolithic tree. A small flower, the fragile colour of a frail woman’s bruise, lay withering between the squeezing and taunting roots of the forest tree. Pale fingers stroked the tilted stem, straightening it, strengthening it against the harsh conditions all around. It was amazing that something so small could survive the bite, snatching teeth of the cold, clawing and ripping at the warmth and life within the many who wandered the Arctic. A sense of survival lingered prominently here.
A quiet whisper, though at one point it must’ve have been shouted, carried on the breeze, settling on Atachii’s ears as she turned her head to its source, hands still cradling the wilting flower. As it is often said, curiosity killed the lonely child. She leaned down, her lips parted as she breathed warmth onto the dying petals, and watched with satisfaction as it straightened, standing itself bravely against the flakes of snow that battered its shallow roots. Perhaps these flowers would spread, bringing something new to the monotony of the black trees and white snow the towered above her and slowed her progress toward the person she new must linger somewhere through the maze.
Pulling her hood lower over her face, Atachii trudged determinedly through the snow, feeling her warm feet touch the frozen ground, packing the crystallized flakes in around her. Her body was cloaked by a thick, black jacket, brocaded with blue leaves, the cuffs and hood trimmed in the down and feathers of the birds she had failed to heal or the ones she had cast down for leaving her with a nasty mess in her hair. Atachii quickly forgot that fact, not seeing it as the most promising moment in her history. Billowing skirts trailed behind her, the ends wet with melted snow and tears of hardship. She had managed to wrap herself in a spell of warmth, but the damp and wet still tugged at her veins and made her shudder in discomfort.
In the distance, a small group, dark against the snow, became clear in her view. Her cautious green eyes scanned the band of lost souls as she drew closer, her breath frosting before her when she stopped to stand behind he nearest tree, its cold and unforgiving trunk sturdy as she peaked around it to watch their goings-on. A smile, weary and curious, spread across her blue-tinged lips as she observed, unable to hear their words from her vantage point.
There were three, no four, lingering together in a circle. Something tiny, the fourth figure, was small, minute enough to keep slipping from her vision as it seemed to flit around. The second she knew was injured, the body limp and appearing lifeless to her. Had someone died? Was that what she had heard? The body was carried by a third person, whom she could tell was also in pain… Somehow. These three, she noted, stood apart from the fourth, as though he were a stranger in their midst, someone not yet known, someone they could not yet trust.
Atachii shifted her body around to the other side of the tree, her pale face blending with the snow below her. She needed to move. The dampness of the melting snow was creeping up her legs, making her lips quiver with cold. She had been stupid to come out here. Seeing snow was not worth the discomfort she felt now. Strengthening the warming spell around herself, she began to move away from the sheltering camouflage of the tree, standing out like a splotch of ink on an unmarred writer’s paper. Glancing back at the group, knowing that they were conversing, she out to cross the clearing.
She felt the branch bend and break before she heard the resounding snap that echoed out into the horizon. Her muscles tensed and froze in place. Atachii cringed, knowing that at least one of them would hear it. Oh, shit. Now they would know she had been watching them, hovering around the shadows like a fiend of the night, reaching out and observing, never touching.
She turned her head slowly, her pale features turning to face them. She straightened, standing in the cold, the wind shifting the crimson brown tendrils of hair that had worked their way from beneath her hood. Green eyes stared forward, catching the light that emanated from everywhere and nowhere at all, waiting for a quick escape or a server tongue-lashing.
