Since entering this land, Ootat had discovered a kind of fear. Not the fear that usually held her hand, whispering wise warnings and drawing her away from danger, no... this was a brand of fear for which there was no name, a fear she had yet to properly meet. But it was there, a bud of darkness lurking in the dungeons of her mind, twisting with every step, feeding on every shadow that might be something more. Days were becoming harder, a nights rest was not so much restful anymore as a wakeful nightmare. Ootat was afraid and she was slowly coming to terms with that, very slowly. Even alone the she-wolf was wan to admit such fallacy's in herself, a character that she had spent the last year and a half of her life building in an effort to become better. Here though, amongst the ice and snow it was incredibly difficult to be anything short of terrified.
To be honest it was beautiful, white and slick, opalescent in the right kind of sunlight, but for the most part scary. The land was dangerously flat, telling the tales of creatures that might have attempted to walk a distance, seducing its prey with the sore lack of life. And hope she would wonder as deep yellow eyes gazed long and hard across the flawless surface, imagination trying to come up with some plausible birth for such a place. Not too far to her right was a monolith of carved ice, breaking up through the surface and coming to a head far up toward the sky. Wind buffeted the fragile foundation, crying out like a jealous lover as it hit the pearly face and whistled past. Ootat was awed and more so frightened, what in this world could have created something like that? This bizarre archway of ice and damnation? Leaning, weary under years of hardship. Do not think that the angry spires had been missed either, for they were the first obstruction she noticed upon stepping foot into this hell. She had not stayed to wonder where they might have come from, or more, what felt the need to make them. Anything so sharp and mangled had no good consequences for those who got to close, even the bases were grown with thorns.
If she was wise she would turn back and forget about such a place, closing this portal of experience and sealing it shut. Instead, heavy paws found their way into a trot, bringing her closer to the archway and farther from the violent glaciers. Terror gripped her chest and the hair along her spine was stiff with discomfort. Turn back! Turn back! every sense in her body screamed, warning flags flaring and breath coming in sharp bursts, a testament to her true feelings. Yet onward she plowed, head low against the bitter wind and icy shrapnel that ripped into the layers of her coat.
Open to any!
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