Spirits On Ice

The north was as frigid as she remembered, but she’d pushed on to visit this place, though the weather was what most would call absolutely dreadful. She, however, thoroughly enjoyed the harsh blizzard whipping her mane and tail into a furious billow.

Her armor and cloak were a barrier against wind and sleeting snow, and as light suddenly bloomed under her paws, through the ice bared by the harsh wind, she smiled, breaking into a trot, then lengthening her strides to race ahead with the wind with a soft laugh.

She’d always liked this place, even with having fought a polar bear here, and met a sad man she’d never seen again. The light beneath the ice, flaring with each fleet strike of her paws, was enchanting and ethereal, a piece of natural beauty, and she deeply enjoyed the place, especially in the white-out conditions where the lake and her own fur were the only source of light in the night.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think