breath of winter - rp with untouchablegirl
Summons don’t leave tracks. They were ghosts, technically, and they glided along the powder snow with a grace that only a Schnee could muster. Weissen watched the pack of dogs run, so white they would have been lost against the ice underneath. A jaw would open here or there, howls and snarls that would never be heard by the living again.
The air was still, and his breath came out in large puffy clouds in the subzero temperatures. If he hadn’t grown up this far north it might have even been uncomfortable. Or dead, maybe. It was certainly cold enough to freeze in a matter of minutes.
His mother, beinern, held the reigns of their sleigh in one hand. The other was resting on the hilt of her massive broadsword. Her eyes, a piercing, dangerous blue scanned the horizon. Occasionally, she would place her giant gloved hand on the small of his back, though they never spoke to each other. It was the only comfort in their sparse forest of pine and ice.
They passed a large boulder, and then they were officially off of Schnee land. It would take them three days to get back from here, but this route was as familiar to him as the scar gouged across his eye.
Their hunting trip was finally beginning.
Hours passed, and the sun slowly crawled along the horizon. This far away from the equator and it would only set for a few hours. The Schnee manor was quite literally the boarder between the civilized world and the land beyond. And only Schnees had gone out farther and survived.
Grimm, large and small alike wandered around here, many in packs. And these creatures did leave tracks.
With a thought, the summons slowed to a halt, then dissipated to wherever summons go when they’re not needed. Weissen gripped Myrtenaster and a nod from Beinern had him jumping out into the snow to study the thick gouges in front of them.
“Ursa and beowolves.” Weissen said, loud enough for Beinern to hear. His lips pursed. “Very recent. An hour at the most. They went that way.” he motioned towards a cusp of trees a little farther into the distance.
Beinern grinned, and it was all teeth. “This should be a warm up, then. Lets see what Beacon has taught you.” She slid Cherпоцелуй onto her back and jumped down into the snow beside Weissen, kneeling to study the tracks. Then she stood, and she toward over him.
And then she paused. “…Do you hear that?”
Weissen strained, listening as the gentle wind carried the sounds of snarls and yelps. Mother and son looked at each other for a moment, then they broke into a sprint as one.
There was someone out here, and they were fighting for their life.
This cold was so deep it could numb thought. It sank into her bones, stole her breath. She thought she remembered dying. She thought she might truly be dead. Surely this must be hell, this endless field of white broken only by the crooked, black silhouettes of dead pines. “Come and get me!”
Pyrrha wheeled to catch a heavy paw on her makeshift shield. But still she didn’t fall, just brandished a crude shield fashioned from a trash can lid and a leather strap, scarred fingers gripping a spear that was little more than a shard of metal.
The grimm dodged in and out of her reach, a deadly circle that drew closer each time she blinked or swayed. Sometimes they drew blood. Spattered on the snow, red as her hair.
She staggered out of the way of another blow on numbed feet, trying to remember the pain of ill-fitting shoes. “Come on! I - I’m not done.”
Pyrrha had kept on only by putting one foot in front of the other for so long, but she couldn’t bear to give up now. If they planned to take her, they would pay dearly for her life.
