Labyrinth of Snow and Ice

3

It's evening by the time she makes it back home, and her sister Elain is setting their small table with fruits and vegetables that she grew in her garden. She usually grows flowers, but Nesta had enough of seeing the pretty pink things everywhere. So Elain used her charm and beauty to purchase a couple of strawberry and carrot seed packs from one of their neighbors for a small price. Feyre doesn't greet them when she walks in, and neither do they. There is no asking how her journey was, or if she even found a place to work.

The only thing that Nesta does is give her a cold glance with those piercing gray blue eyes. They used to be close with each other, but after the death of their mom, Nesta built up walls that Feyre fears she will never be able to break through. She thinks about the times that they used to paint together, and although Nesta was terrible at it, the moments were still theirs. Now Feyre fears that they are too far apart to be put back together again.

Elain hands Feyre a plate with a small smile, one that Feyre assumes was meant to welcome her back. Feyre takes it without a word back, and heads outside to eat in peace. They've had nothing but miniature strawberries, carrots, and water for the past two weeks.

Feyre's gaze drifts to the arrows that she stashed by the tree next to their cabin. She decides right then and there that nothing, and no one, is going to stop her from going into the woods and hunting. Take care of the family; her mothers last words. If that was the only thing she was made for, then that was what she would do. Feyre makes sure that no one sees her when she slips into the woods the next morning.

Not like they would care if they did. She had seen some children making rabbit traps from time to time, so she would start with that. The still morning air was cold, and the bushes and stray branches on the ground were covered with a light layer of frost. After she makes a couple of basic traps, Feyre nocks an arrow into her bow and sets off to hunt.

She had been waiting long enough for her stomach to twist with hunger. Out of all the days for the winter animals to finally be out of sight, they just had to pick today. Feyre yawns, the sound being abruptly echoed by another. She whips her head around, but sees nothing. She gets up from the tree that she was resting by, and slowly stalks over to the direction of the sound she had heard. Feyre's heart thundered in anticipation and slight fear and she turned the corner of a bush, and - it was a fox.

A baby fox to be exact. And it wasn't the normal kind. No, this one was pure black. Its violet eyes peered up at her from its little burrow in the snow. Feyre could see no other foxes around, and it appeared to be slightly injured. So she knelt down and slowly reached a trembling hand towards the top of its head.