The Storm Lamb

The baby cried and cried. Only, it was much softer compared to the deafening noise that came from outside. At least it wasn't flooding, was the only thought that ran through Summer's mind as he watches her writhe in a pool of her mother's blood. He lifted her up from it, wrapped her in the soft fur as the skin-crawling shriek of the leviathan continues to fill his ear. He was the last one left. The tent was about to collapse, in fact, he wondered for a moment how it hasn't yet.

He thought he should just embrace his fate. It seems if the One Above had desperately wanted it for him. It rained black snow, hails, poison and a monster all at the same time, how could the One Above not wanted him dead? The black flakes seeped through the torn flaps of the tent, it fluttered in the air like toxic butterflies as the wind manipulated its erratic direction.

He could feel the painful and numbing sensation coming as the poisonous black snow surrounds him, the inhuman shriek has now morphed into an eerily soft groan. Much more grounded now and no longer so outlandishly incomprehensible. In fact, that's what terrified him the most as he could now grasp the reality of it clearer. The groan seems to be the only thing he could hear even out of the pattering of the sharp ice against the tent and the wind's might tearing into it.