Shadow of the Wilds

Chapter 2

As Syla walked, as she took each step, her boots sunk into the snow and emitted a crunching sound that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. With every step, the relentless crunching made her skin shiver. She didn't know why it bothered her so much, it just always had. It had been that way for so long, she couldn't remember when it started.

To make matters worse, it was bitterly cold. Nothing could protect her from the piercing wind that felt like glass scraping along her cheeks. Neither the woolen scarf she had tightly knotted around her face and neck, nor the tufts of fur that protruded from the edges of her coat, boots and gloves, would be able to help protect her much.

To put it simply, she was quite miserable in this moment. 22 hours in total, 6 hours today alone, of attempting to find game to eat in this cruel weather had brought a sense of overwhelming anxiety over her. She had to eat soon. Lest her hunger remain unsated for another day, she would soon be far to weak to continue. The thought of a death at the hands of freezing mixed with extreme hunger were so repulsive that it alone was enough to keep her going.

She looked forward to finding anything to eat. She had long given up on finding anything as sustainable as a seal, but a fox, a rabbit, or even a gull would do. At this point however, something small might even be most desirable. A full seal would mostly go to waste as she lacked the strength to properly cut it up, never mind that she would have no way to store it. The pack on her back was heavy enough that she didn't dare think about adding any more weight than she had to.

Crunch, under her boot, the snow went as she trudged forward. Her mind began to wander. Did the snow have something against her? What had she done to deserve this constant reminder of her destitute. In the past 10 years, nothing had gone less her way than the past week. Having finished the last of her hastily gathered provisions, she hadn't eaten in 3 days. She would be lucky if she had enough char cloth left in her tinderbox for a fire that evening let alone the morning and night of the morrow. Her bedroll was damp from the poor excuse of a tent that could hardly be called shelter. Sure it could block most of the unpleasantries that night brought, but it let in water and moisture through gashes in the floor panel. She wasn't sure if it had snagged on a rough patch of ground, or if it had always been that way. The jobber that had helper her escape from the northern city of Rotund had sold it to her; well, really he had given it to her.

It had cost her almost everything to get out of that vile place so it was really the least he could do. She had paid him handsomely to steal her out of the city and as she left the sailing vessel that had quietly slipped past the town guard, she saw it lying in a corner and had asked to have it. He had been seemingly disgruntled to part with it, but it took little convincing before he shrugged and told her to take it. She supposed that as far as he had known, she had paid him everything she'd had to get his help and had nothing more to offer. That was mostly true, but she had kept a few gold coins hidden in her jacket in a secret pocket that she had sewn closed before she had begun her escape.

Really though, those extra coins had done her no real good. After leaving the arctic port city of Bromuth, she had seen no one. She wasn't really sure which direction she was heading, but "away" was good enough; or so she had thought anyways.  Maybe, by some miracle, she would come across an outpost or fishing village that she could pay for a warm bath and hot meal. She had been following the coast for several days as that seemed like the best way to encounter additional civilization while staying off the main roads. But she hadn't been able to study a map before leaving, and having not wanted to expose herself anymore that she had to in back in Bromuth, had left without consulting one.

A sharp gust caught Syla off-guard. She coughed on her breath and it made her all too aware of how painful her sides were from her hunger. She stumbled on her feet which let up a flurry of snowy crunches. Was this it? Was this when madness would settle on her mind, or would she have to endure frostbite first.

It was then that she became all too aware of the distant sound of an approaching pack of dogs barking behind her.