HOME
[hom] noun
a gathering place for FAMILY to join together in laughter. the one place you will always be surrounded by those who LOVE you. a place or feeling of BELONGING.
the frosts - the story of a family ripped apart. the story of two teenag...
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"She is brave and strong and broken all at once. As she speaks it is as if her existence is no longer real to her in itself, more like a living epitaph of a life that once was." - Anna Funder, Stasiland: Stories from Behind the Berlin Wall
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The twilight painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, slowly blending into shades of violet and indigo before finally settling into the dark, dreariness of nighttime. The dense forest and the canopy of the trees blocked most of the sunlight, but the vibrant colors of the sky could still be seen from certain angles. Andie had climbed to the top of the dam to enjoy the sunset the night she arrived.
She might have paused to enjoy it again had it not been for the blizzard that was overtaking Lantern Waste. She couldn't see five feet in front of her, let alone the sunset.
The White Witch was not in a good mood.
Andie sprinted through the woods, struggling to see through the curtain of white that was all around her. Stray tree limbs tore at her cloak and left cuts on her face and arms. She let out a grunt as her dress caught on something and she fell over, landing in the soft snow beneath her, face numb from the cold.
How she very much wished Aslan had provided her with pants, instead.
While she didn't mind wearing a dress - she rather enjoyed them, actually - it didn't seem like the appropriate attire for this particular escapade. She silently cursed women's fashion, grateful that she at least had boots instead of whatever dreadful shoes girls were expected to wear. Certainly nothing that would have been appropriate for traipsing through the woods.
Only a moment was taken to catch her breath before she picked herself back up and continued ahead at full speed, narrowly avoiding low-hanging branches and being extra careful to avoid any other tripping hazards.
The Beavers' home finally came into view, a small patch of light visible through the window. The girl barged through the door, exhausted, pushing back the dampened strands of hair that clung to her face. Not bothering to remove her snow-caked boots and sopping wet cloak, she frantically searched for parchment and a quill.
Ignoring Mrs Beaver's confused questioning, Andie scribbled out a letter to Aslan and the army, barely waiting for the ink to dry before rolling it up and heading for the door, nearly tripping over the beaver-sized table and chairs on the way out. She figured a heads-up couldn't hurt, so they could be prepared for the Kings and Queens to arrive at camp.
"Andra, what is going on?" Mrs Beaver asked, her face etched with concern. It wasn't a normal sight for the girl to be so frantic.
However, the girl herself hadn't become much of a normal sight. Since Andie had only been staying with the Beavers for a few of days, the married couple were still getting accustomed to sharing their home with a third party.
