Weyr Life Drabbles: Prompt word #67: "Snow"
The landscape beneath blue Rowenath's wings lies in silent whiteness. Fields and Holds are buried in drifts, and the river waters creep stealthily beneath the thick, splintered ice. Thread will not plague these valleys until spring, when life returns again. And he must face his duty, his choice of life or death; the endless battle of the Pass.
Life will return, but not green Selmuth - for her, the cold arrived too late.
It is as cold as between, here between clouds and frozen ground. Between, where they drift, forever lost.
G'mab's heart is frozen, and he dreads the thaw.
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chesneycat) wrote,
