What's This?
Fleet-footed
03-12-2021, 03:30 PM
This ice bridge was beyond intriguing. Perhaps it was some kind of siedi, a sacred place? It was hard to view it as anything else since it had seemingly appeared suddenly out of the sea. Kiela had no doubt it had been shaped by strange, unusual forces that were definitely out of their control. This winter had been a particularly brutal one and it didn't seem out of the realm of possibility that a section of the sea could've simply frozen over to create this mass of ice, a process exacerbated by the season's intensity.
She was reminded with each second that passed, just how strong these gusts of winds were. She felt them threaten to take her away with each step - she swore she felt the ice itself creaking beneath her paws, swaying as if threatening to spill her over the side of the ice bridge. "Ah," Kiela responded thoughtfully. Even in the north the summers could be warm - at least comparatively - but she had a feeling Dusk meant something far different. "Yes. The cold, I am used to. I am surprised it has lasted so long. Usually by now, I expect warmer."
Even in the far north, the cycle of the seasons was unavoidable. The bitter cold ebbed and flowed like the tides of the seas; or the rising of the sun and the moon. Things were all cyclical, and though the pattern often shifted it still remained largely the same and often predictable as far as she had learned. Until this season, at least. This was something different entirely, something she couldn't have predicted as much as she tried. But still she pressed on, one deliberate step at a time, keeping her footing as she took slow strides forward and kept herself low to the ice.
She was reminded with each second that passed, just how strong these gusts of winds were. She felt them threaten to take her away with each step - she swore she felt the ice itself creaking beneath her paws, swaying as if threatening to spill her over the side of the ice bridge. "Ah," Kiela responded thoughtfully. Even in the north the summers could be warm - at least comparatively - but she had a feeling Dusk meant something far different. "Yes. The cold, I am used to. I am surprised it has lasted so long. Usually by now, I expect warmer."
Even in the far north, the cycle of the seasons was unavoidable. The bitter cold ebbed and flowed like the tides of the seas; or the rising of the sun and the moon. Things were all cyclical, and though the pattern often shifted it still remained largely the same and often predictable as far as she had learned. Until this season, at least. This was something different entirely, something she couldn't have predicted as much as she tried. But still she pressed on, one deliberate step at a time, keeping her footing as she took slow strides forward and kept herself low to the ice.
