The Flurry Forest || Looking for shelter || Mood: Cold and desperate
Cold.
It was cold.
She rubbed her palms together, trembling, fingers freezing, barely able to move. The beating of her heart was slow, legs ached, her cheeks and ears numb and cold. Footsteps slowed, legs threatening to give in at any moment. She needed shelter. Warmth; she craved for it. Needed it. Chapped lips nearly bled, face pale and eyes tired; a dark shade of exhaustion settled under them, her usually bright eyes now dim and red from crying.
The forest seemed alive, watching The Girl as she slowly traversed its lands, covered in thick layers of snow. Thin sheets of ice blanketed the trees. Rivers were frozen, reflecting the early morning rays of the sun that seeped through the canopy of trees. It was dead silent, no birds or animals in sight. As if they knew this forest was dangerous—that it smelled of death. They were of afraid of something. Something dangerous. And they avoided it like plague.
Anastasia’s throat felt dry, aching for moisture. She slowed to a halt, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. “
Grant me safe passage,” she muttered a soft prayer to whatever God was listening. A pang of desperation and dread clawed at her stomach. She wanted to scream. Cry. Curse. But she swallowed it all down and continued to walk, purpose in her stride. She couldn't stop now. Not after everything.
A pair of hazel eyes bounced back and forth, looking for shelter. The heavens must have been watching her, because just a distance away from her, was a cave. There was a small opening, just enough for her to crawl into. The new-found hope willed her legs to move faster. Faster. Faster. She stepped on her dress and fell to her knees, her face meeting the freezing white snow. She shivered. Her teeth chattered. Slowly, she got up to her feet, her legs shaking and her hands trembling. She was close.
So close. Anastasia moved faster, holding her dress up to keep her from falling.
As soon as she reached the cave, she didn't waste another moment. She got to her knees and slowly crawled into the dark opening. She struggled to get inside, and finally, she breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she made it. She allowed herself to lay on the dirt for a moment, too exhausted to even lift a finger. There was more silence. It was almost deafening. Her mind wandered back to the Kingdom she had left. To her family. To her people. Her eyebrows furrowed as tears threatened to fall. She bit her lip, wincing as it bled. They were dry, chapped, and pale. She was sure she looked nothing like the princess that she was.
If it weren't for the fancy dress and beautiful hair ornaments that graced her head, no one would be able to tell she was the princess. Her long black hair was tangled up, her eyes swollen, her flesh now adorned with cuts. She used to sit on chairs made of gold, now she lay on dirt, not even knowing how she was supposed to survive. She did not know how to treat her wounds, start a fire, or even catch fish for food. She never had to worry about these things. Someone had always helped her. Now she was alone, lost and afraid.
"
Oh, mother.. you believed in me too much. Now that belief will get me killed. I would be safer in the castle," she sobbed. Her voice trembled as tears sprang down her soft cheeks. She felt weak. Hopeless. Pathetic, most of all. Afraid. Anastasia slowly picked herself up and sat down, her back leaning against the wall. She hugged her knees and stared at the ground, letting the silence consume her. Soon, she will find her strength and continue her journey. For now, she will succumb to her weakness.