On-Air: Winter
I got accustomed to the cold, the lack of warmth present around me. Somehow those tight holds that feel like close ember scare me more than the blizzards.
Everyone released a wisp of cold air as they breathed. Sunlight dawned upon us but it wasn't enough to counter the chilling breeze in the mountains.
"Yue!" I was brought back by the sudden call of my name. There I stood dazed for a while before running towards the direction the others headed. The mountains never lost their snow, let it be summer or spring, as though eternal were its' anguish and misery. Sometimes I could hear the wailing of animals when they could no longer endure. Yet there I stood, simply letting out a silent farewell.
"Yue, eat. The snow isn't merciful to the weak."
I turned back to our leader who had equally divided what we have retrieved from going around the snow-covered alps. Pieces of meat easily devoured with a single bite and a few berries that had dried from the cold. This was daily life for us, a routine that had let us live for now approaching a week. Having no idea what is ahead of us, the future scared me more than the sharp flakes that flew with the wind.
The fire continued to burn the remaining wood and left ashes on the ground it once stood. Another day has passed, a tad bit of hope fading, that tomorrow we'd know where our tracks would lead us.
"The cold isn't merciful to the weak" I remained silent, having heard it countless times as they chanted the same words each day. However much I wish to recite the same, had not that night brought fear to their hearts?
Planks kept falling as though it imitated the rain, armored by fire and played by the winds. Cries of souls filled the small room, echoing into one another's ears.
Then it went silent.
More than agony, the silence was deafening. Like children, there we crouched calling our kin.
And there burns had turned into scars. Marks of which were earned from hiding, having won no battle against flame-hooded enemies. Was it bravery? We simply chose our only means of survival... as we played oblivious to the screams.
"The cold is not merciful to the weak..." I said as I stride further ahead to where others had went.
"...Yet neither were the embers that payed no discrimination to its' prey."
