a gorgeous white by Heather_anare

291: Something is wrong

As they marched across the grass, Moulin's frequently glanced at Hadrian. His eyes watched the man's prominent back as he led the way with the Golden-blood wolf at his side. Lowering his gaze, Moulin knitted his eyebrows as he took a glimpse of his elder brother beside him, wearing a cold expression. The chill within those striking grey eyes was intimidating. Emlen probably hadn't forgiven Moulin and was still angry. Moulin wouldn't blame him. It was his fault for making his brother worry about him too much.

However, Moulin realized that Emlen's anger gradually began to slither away. Leaving only the remnants of the fear and the concern he has for his little brother, which would never disappear. Despite this, Moulin thought to stay beside his brother for a while until his anger had fully diminished.

The wind is dull, and the skies as lifeless. The ground beneath their feet felt too... safe. While some may find this insignificant, Moulin doubts the rest wouldn't still feel cautious and suspicious after the events at the bridge. Most of them were still shaken, given that they didn't have enough time to soothe their nerve after the terrible incident.

Moulin's delicate fingers clutched the strap of his back while he lowered his head, softly watching the curious little snow-white fox peeking out from his satchel. As though sensing his master's stare on him, Snow tilted his head upwards and met Moulin's eyes. He barked and blinked his beady round eyes endearingly.

Moulin's lips cracked a smile before he shifted his attention ahead. The foggy plains, stretching endlessly for miles, seemed to loom towards him ominously.

"Where is it?" Ghana whispered as she surveyed the land around them. They have been walking for quite a while, and they have not caught sight of a single structure.

Jagra's afraid they wouldn't be able to find the outpost before dark. He exhaled deeply.

"Let's keep moving forward and scan the area. It should be here..." Taking out a folded paper and a light from his pocket, he began to analyze the routes and land for a clue. He lets out a frustrated sigh with a dark look. He only hoped the ground hadn't shifted yet. Otherwise, it will be difficult for them.

Moulin furrowed his brows as he glanced at his brother.

Three hours later, the group stopped for a short rest. While the rest slumped down on the grass, Moulin remained standing, going over to where his friends are, away from his brother's eyes. Squatting, Ghana played with the weight of her spear while Jagra was checking his things in his bag.

"I feel like we've been walking in circles." Jagra kneaded his forehead. "Are... we really not lost?"

"Perhaps, there's a significant chance," Ghana replied while stretching her arms. "I think we'll be still searching until evening."

Jagra closed his mouth and began to worry about being out in the open under the dark sky. The thought of the pitch-black darkness surrounding them haunted him. The place already made him feel anxious, as if they were blindly walking into a trap, secret eyes watching them through the fog. He knew the others felt it too.

"We will find shelter soon," Moulin spoke when he stood near them. "We have to..."

"Your brother looks like he'll tear his hair out." Ghana gestured her spear to Lord Emlen, who was seriously studying the map. "Think he'll get us out of here soon?"

"He'll figure it out..."

"I hope so." Ghana shrugged. "Something tells me we should get off the grass before nightfall."

Moulin nods, feeling the same. After a couple of words, Moulin left the two and finally found Hadrian. The man was standing beside the massive wolf, Kier. His golden gaze fell upon the far distance enshrouded by the fog. He sensed Moulin approach him and his shoulders turned lax.