Maea
It's not a demon at your door
In the end, she just couldn't bring herself to step inside. Retreating with shame and dread burning her throat, Maea went back to the horses. Wasting time by building up a fire with discarded bits of wood, she huddled beside it with hands outstretched.
If only the memories could be so easily incinerated. But alas, their grip on her held tight as minutes slowly dragged by. Overhead the clouds scattered as the wind picked up. Pale patches of blue glimpsed through and for a few precious minutes, thin rays of sunlight illuminated the landscape. The snow that had seemed so dull and gray began to sparkle, bright enough that her eyes watered.
Was it a sign, of some kind? That even in the midst of her worries there were silver linings to be found? Horribly on the nose, if so - but though the shadow of the Spire loomed black over her head, she did breathe a little easier as she turned back to the fire.
If only the memories could be so easily incinerated. But alas, their grip on her held tight as minutes slowly dragged by. Overhead the clouds scattered as the wind picked up. Pale patches of blue glimpsed through and for a few precious minutes, thin rays of sunlight illuminated the landscape. The snow that had seemed so dull and gray began to sparkle, bright enough that her eyes watered.
Was it a sign, of some kind? That even in the midst of her worries there were silver linings to be found? Horribly on the nose, if so - but though the shadow of the Spire loomed black over her head, she did breathe a little easier as she turned back to the fire.
It's just your shadow on the floor
