Monday, February 14, 2011

The Storm

The Seasons may blast some, reminders of one's meekness, but the Elemental ferocity experienced now is not a force of humility, but an utter rejection of humanity. The children's footprints had led us through Tiernook's Gash, a break in the granite teeth, but now this vale, this Heart of Winter, is breaking us.

The Escape

The road at dawn is illuminated in a light so pale only fugitives would call it hope. Travelling through the dark overland didn't yield much distance. Surely the city would still be in view if she was to turn around, which is why she doesn't. The air is still cold and the shadows appear like dark droppings left by the silent beast called Night. The greatest hope was in the silence, such sharp contrast to the city. Although its streets were abandoned by all but the mad and unsavory, the inner spaces nearly burst with activity. Now, the Dawn takes that hope away with the cries of birds and the dance of predator and prey.