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₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱ Cleo ⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

They couldn't stop. 

With every step, Cleo's booted feet sank further into the barely disturbed snow. The cruel, white landscape wanted to swallow them whole, envelop them in its frigid embrace, until they became nothing but another mound in the endless expanse. 

It didn't matter how many layers they were wrapped up in—the cold was never one to discriminate. It sank its wicked teeth underneath their skin, numbing their nerve endings into useless crystals of ice. 

Their quick, laboured breathing curled into puffs of mist in front of them, before being whisked away by the sharp, unrelenting wind, which lashed against their cheeks like a whip. It sang promises of worse weather to come, battering their face with snowflakes, which only blurred the already murky divide between land and sky.

They could not stop.  

A part of them—one they refused to look directly in the eyes—was far too aware of how quickly the trail was disappearing. 

Their last connection to Scar and Bdubs. 

Cleo swallowed down everything—the uncomfortable pain in their throat, the burning of their muscles, the stinging of their eyes, which threatened to turn into crystals against their skin. They stuffed the too-big emotions into a tiny box and shoved it far off into a corner of their mind, ignoring how it threatened to burst. 

All they could do was continue putting one foot in front of the other. Continue sinking into the puffy snow. Continue their trek forward, one too-slow step at a time. 

Because they could not stop. 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

The ugly truth of it was, they weren't properly prepared for any of it. 

This was meant to be only a fishing trip—a quick, simple venture to replenish the settlement's food reserves. Easy enough that two teens, with barely any idea of the evils of the world, could join and shake off a bit of that restlessness burning in them. 

The thought of them snagged against Cleo's throat like a too-sharp hook. How did it all go so wrong? 

She swiped at her face, ignoring the biting cold which sank further and further into her being. It stiffened her limbs, slowed down the racing of her heart. Sensations teetering between numbness and pain.  

Her body grew heavier with each step. 

Green eyes zeroed in on the slowly disappearing tracks in front of her. She took little comfort in the fact that they weren't streaked with blood. 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

The world danced in front of Cleo's eyes. 

White upon white upon endless white, with no telling where the ground ended and where the sky began. Even when they closed their eyes, they still couldn't escape the blankness of this existence.

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

Looking back, they couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when their body began rejecting the sensations around them. When cold gave way to numbed limbs, gave way to pain, gave way to burning. 

When fire began flickering right underneath their skin. 

They wanted nothing more than to unpeel the layers smothering them, to rid themself of the pain. Even knowing it was just a trick of nature, designed to make them give in and become one with the snow-filled world, it took all of Cleo's willpower to keep their hands stuffed firmly in their pockets. 

All that mattered was to keep placing one lead-laced foot in front of the other. 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

Hot. 

Everything was too fucking hot.

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

Cleo swore she was moving. She knew she should be moving because moving meant getting closer to Scar and Bdubs. 

She couldn't leave them behind, would rather die than leave them alone. 

(Odds were, she was going to end up dead. The blanket of snow turning into her tomb.)

The distance between her thoughts and her body began to grow farther and farther apart. 

Her legs began revolting. Refusing to move. 

Her eyes kept falling closed. 

All she needed was a little rest. Just a handful of minutes. Just enough to replenish her energy. Then she could continue on, follow the tracks that—thing left behind. 

She couldn't tell if it was her eyes playing tricks on her, or if the tracks had actually disappeared. 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

Something moved in the distance. A tiny black smudge against the perfect white. 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

How was it so close now? Cleo swore it had been nothing but a speck only a second ago. 

It drew nearer and nearer, a beeline straight for their collapsed body. 

When had they even sunk into the snow? They couldn't rest... couldn't stop... they had to get to Scar and Bdubs before...

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱❆⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

Scar and Bdubs. 

Bdubs and Scar. 

The names flickered in Cleo's head, sharp and clear, standing out like a lighthouse beacon against the fogginess of her mind. 

Tinkling laughter. Light teasing turning to fights. Two pairs of large, melted-chocolate eyes. Each thought trapped her heart in a vice grip, squeezing tighter and tighter, until she was convinced it would explode. 

Something had gone wrong, horribly impossibly wrong, that much she was sure of, even when she couldn't place her finger on exactly what that was. Whenever the smallest clue of what might have taken place began approaching the shores of her mind, it was swiftly tugged away before she could properly grasp it. Just another wave, returning to the murky ocean of uncertainty. 

Bdubs and Scar. 

Scar and Bdubs.

Somewhere in the distance, their body burned, and yet they couldn't help but curl further in on themself, arms tucked close to their chest as forceful shivers rocked their being. 

Everything was impossibly heavy, their limbs leaden and unsteady. 

Something danced in front of her, painting gentle hues of colour on the backs of her closed eyelids. Cleo forced them open, none-too-happily as they fought against her efforts, begging her for just a little more rest. 

They were met with the warm, orange glow of a fire. The flames flickered lazily, trapped within a small iron stove. Beckoning them to close their eyes for a few more minutes, to throw their worries into the blaze, let them burn away into ash, and just rest. 

They pushed themself up, too many blanket layers to count falling off their shoulders. Their head pounded in protest at the sudden movement.

"What...?" 

The room they found themself in was dim and unfamiliar, lit up only by the small fire beside them. Little care was put into the small amount of furniture dotting the place—there was no decor, nothing placed without a strict, utilitarian purpose: a chair here, a dented table there, a semi-organised pile of gear in the corner. 

A strange, rhythmic sound echoed through the cabin like a sinister heartbeat. Shink, shink, shink. 

With their mind lagging behind their body, they turned to the source of the sound. 

And there, sequestered off in one of the dim corners, sat a figure cloaked in darkness. They were hunched over, the entirety of their attention caught on the bevel of a dagger as they dragged it rhythmically across a sharpening stone. 

Shrink, shink, shink. 

A small spark fell off the blade, momentarily illuminating the scarred face behind it. 

Even with barely more than a silhouette, Cleo could recognise that figure anywhere. 

Air began leaving their lungs in sharp, quick puffs. 

"W-where are they?" she demanded, though the involuntary clatter of her teeth took all the intended bite out of her words. 

The rhythmic sharpening paused as her words blanketed the room in a pressing atmosphere. Etho didn't look up, yet Cleo somehow felt the heaviness of his gaze anyway. 

"Don't know," he replied in that deceptively mellow cadence of his. "You were the only one I found. I thought you were alone." 

The words slid beneath their ribs like a too-dull knife, a sudden, indescribable dread slicing them to ribbons from the inside out. No amount of measured breathing could curb the panic seeping from the wounds, yet Cleo tried anyway. "I'm never alone." 

Flashes of memory splashed onto her like streams of freezing water: Scar and Bdubs' barely contained excitement when they finally left the bounds of the settlement, the carved hole and fishing poles, the bickering laughter charging the air. 

The sudden screams, the blurs of motion, Cleo's small knife sliding underneath the hide of some unknown beast. Rushing through the endless white, desperately clinging onto hope that she would somehow catch up. 

Too late, all of it too late. 

She wasn't crying, but the dry lump nestled in her throat made it seem like she might. It was difficult to breathe around it. 

"I need to get them." 

Cleo pushed herself off the threadbare couch she'd been lying on, a sudden fervour catching aflame within her bones. But no amount of determination could counteract the heaviness of her limbs or the dizzying fog now clouding her vision. Her feet shook under the newfound weight they had to support, or it might have just been the shivering she couldn't shake off. 

It didn't matter. It didn't matter. 

"Hey, hey, slow down!" Etho jumped from his place in the corner, the sharpening stone clattering to the ground all but forgotten. 

They paid him no mind as they made their way over to their jacket, which hung from the only chair, angled towards the fireplace to help dry it out. Somehow Etho appeared right in front of them within a single blink, blocking out the heat of the flames. 

"Get out of my way," Cleo said, unspoken threats hanging in the air between them. In any other situation, with any other person, it would have been enough. They had always made for a threatening figure, though they could never place their finger on the reason behind it—but the why of it didn't really matter when a single stern look was enough to part the seas in front of them.

It never had the same effect on Etho, though. He stood tall in front of her, arms crossed in front of his chest, and a defiant look burning bright behind mismatched eyes. 

Unstoppable force. Immovable object. 

"You were barely conscious when I found you, there's no way you're going back out there so soon, and definitely not when it's still pitch-black." His tone was measured, frustratingly calm. 

"I didn't ask," they bit back, words laced with unjustified anger, because the alternative was letting the jagged pain in their chest overtake them whole, breaking down into unending sobs. 

They had always been too prideful to let anyone see them like that. 

Etho, though, remained steady in his resolve. "You need to tell me what's going on, what happened?" 

Cleo wanted, needed, to push, to push and fight and bare their teeth—as long as the fire burned bright in their chest, it kept their emotions singed off, making it easier to sweep their ashes to a sequestered corner of their mind. 

But the painful familiarity which flickered behind Etho's mismatched eyes tamed their flame. They bit their tongue— whether it was meant to hold back the vicious words or the sudden well of tears, they couldn't tell. Both, neither, it didn't matter. 

"I just took them fishing, we needed the food and they—something took them, and I need to get them back, so move away before I move you myself." 

Something in Etho's usually stoic expression splintered away. Not a full crumble, just a small crack that exposed the worry hiding away beneath the surface. "Took them?" 

They attempted to speak three separate times, but on each try, the thoughts melted away on their tongue before they could form the proper shape. Every breath they drew snagged in their throat, ragged and painful, barely covered up by their never-ending shivering. "This—this monster-creature-thing, it came out of nowhere and just—I stabbed it, but it wouldn't let them go—" 

Cleo forced the endless onslaught of words to a stop, swallowing down the pain in their throat and steadying their breath. "I'm not leaving Scar and Bdubs alone with that thing." 

They could swear Etho's expression paled. It was hard to tell in the dim room. "That's a frost walker, you can't just—" 

"Watch me," Cleo bit back and pushed the man out of her way. Her fingers tugged away her coat, though barely any sensation made it through the cold-numbed digits. 

"And what's your plan?" Etho barked out, a sudden edge taking over his mellow tone. "Follow the tracks that the snowstorm has long covered up? You'll just get yourself killed!" 

"I can't just leave them alone! I'm not going to sit on my arse while they..." She screwed her eyes shut, willing away the too-dark thoughts out of her mind. "So, get out of my way." 

Etho stood there, statue-still for a moment. Two. 

Mismatched eyes staring intently into hers. 

And then his shoulders sagged, a forceful unwinding of sorts. "I know where they might have been taken. I should have enough proper gear around for the both of us." 

"Yeah, because last time we worked together turned out so fucking well." The words snaked out of her mouth on their own, traitorous and venom-dripped. It was a cruel, low blow, but she didn't have it in her to take them back. She wouldn't have been able to fire the shot if Etho hadn't given her the ammunition years before. 

For his part, Etho's expression didn't change much, though by now Cleo knew better than to expect him to wear the emotions plainly on his face. He'd always been a master of concealment, knew how to scold his emotions no matter the situation. 

He ignored the rise she attempted to get out of him. "If either of them got injured, you'll need an extra pair of hands." 

Cleo's eyes searched those of her former friend. The years had not been kind to him. With no blackened mask covering half his face, it was impossible to miss the scars marring his skin, some of them familiar, others she had only known as angry, weeping wounds, most of them entirely new. Nature was a cruel thing, always eager to leave its marks on anyone dumb or arrogant enough to brave its expanse on their own. 

Cleo bit the inside of their cheek. That was Etho's choice, they reminded themself. His choice to leave their small, stitched-together collective behind. His choice to practically exile himself in the middle of a snowy desert. 

"...Fine," she replied, ripping the words out of her chest before her head could convince her otherwise. This wasn't about her, nor about Etho, nor about the day everything went to shit. "But you better be quick with this. I'm not leaving them alone any longer than I already have." 

And there they were again, another sliver of emotions shining through the small crack in his expression.  They flashed through, small rays of colour, gone before Cleo could fully grasp what they meant. His expression quickly settled back into the passive stoicism he never seemed to shake. "It's pitch black out, and you're still shaking like a wet dog from all the cold. Leaving right now would only make it harder for us to reach Bdubs and Scar." 

"Well, I can't very well sit around here and spend my time staring at the air. I already failed them once, I'm not going to do it again!" 

Etho's mouth opened for a second, ready to comment on something or other she said, before he thought better of it. Instead, he shook his head. "There's only an hour or two until sunrise. That should be enough time for me to get all the gear ready. I promise we'll leave as soon as we can see more than 5 feet in front of us." 

For a moment, Cleo entertained weighing her options. But the truth of it was, there were no options to begin with. The only way to get through this—this mess was with Etho by her side. 

That fact didn't mean she was any happier with this situation. "Fine." 

Etho's lips tugged themselves up in a broken approximation of a reassuring smile. He raised one hand, half-intent on reaching out to Cleo before he thought better of it and let it fall down limply against his side instead. "Let me get you a cup of tea in the meantime. Last thing we need is you freezing up before we even step foot outside." 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━━⊱ Bdubs ⊰━━━━ ❅ ₊˚

They could not freaking stop. 

The cave that swallowed the siblings was impossibly dark, their flickering torch barely provided enough light, and they kept stumbling and half-falling and—

Bdubs gulped down the blind hysteria tearing up his insides, because there was no time to panic. There was no time to pay attention to the cold cutting at his lungs, or the burn of his legs or the pressure of Scar's weight leaning heavily against his body. 

They kept on pushing forward with nothing more than a fast walk, because that's all they could afford when his little brother kept on wincing with every step. 

Their panting breaths mixed together, echoing through the too-large cave tunnels, the sound somehow louder than the whistling of bulltes. 

Too loud, all of it too loud, too identifying, too much. 

Bdubs tightened his hold around the slowly melting icicle, water mixed with blueish blood cascading down his trembling fingers before dripping onto the rocky floor beneath them. 

If that—that thing came back, this chunk of ice was the only thing that would keep them safe (and it was going to come back after them, there was no way in hell a few stab wounds would keep it down). 

It had to be toying with them at this point. There was no way they had managed to shake it off for such a long time—it was only a matter of time before it got bored of stalking them from behind and decided to eat them, or, or kill them, or—

Bdubs pulled Scar tighter to himself. The radiance of his brother's quickly dissipating body heat hit his cheeks. "C'mon, one foot in front of the other," he murmured, hoping against all hope that the echoing tunnel wouldn't lure the creature closer to them." 

Scar chuckled, but it broke ever so slightly. Bdubs couldn't see what was funny in any of this. "You should leave—" 

"No, we're going to find a—a ledge or somethin' soon, someplace where that thing can't reach. And then we're gonna wait, and stay together, and—" the words, desperate to spill out of his chest, snagged themselves in Bdubs' throat. He swallowed them down because there was no time for crying or for panic. "Mom's gonna come, she always knows what to do. She's gonna find us, and—we're gonna get out of here." 

His own reassurances left a taste of futile hope in his mouth. 

₊˚ ❅ ━━━⊱ End ⊰━━ ❅ ₊˚

Thank you so, so much for taking the time to read through all of this! This entire event has been the most fun I've had creating stuff in a long time.

[video ID: Two wheels spin. The first dictates the 'rarity' of the gacha pull -- it lands on 'three-leaf' (out of four leaves). The second dictates the character of the gacha pull -- it lands on 'Anjo'. /end video ID.]

[image ID: A fledgling child, Anjo, dressed in pinks and polka dot blues. They are crouched, wings spread around them, as they are surrounded by a flock of chicks. They wear an Easter hat adorned with bunny ears, lace, painted eggs, and a variety of flowers. Their smile is toothy, eyes crinkled. It looks like they're really enjoying themself! /end image ID.]

Oof alt text is not my forte in the slightest, but there's no better way to be good than to start I suppose!

If it looks like I faked the wheel then YEAH I DID- originally it was just going to be characters, so I was doodling out ideas for Anjo once I landed on them :] Initially I was going to put them in a Bakers Delight uniform lmao but then I realised I could put them in an Easter hat parade instead, since they're closely tied to (my) childhood :D! I never had any proper nice hats myself (I was never big into dress-up), but I was exploring between giving them either really crappy hats or nice and fancy ones :] I couldn't decide so I added the 'rarity' factor to the wheel and just kept spinning both of them until it landed on Anjo again T^T

Anyway! It landed on the second-best level, so we got to indulge in a lovely flowery hat for them ^-^ I didn't want to copy from the hats I found online, but waaa I don't have an eye for design in the same way that some people do T^T I feel like their hat is still a little bland for three leaves honestly :(

I was going to make this either a clean sketch or a lined piece, but I felt like the lines would have been too messy to understand so- I ended up colouring it in the end haha XD