Her eyes were blind to the mist regardless of how hard she tried to see anything. There was nothing but what felt like a combination of a wall and a cavern. She squinted her icy eyes against the cold, her hide twitching where her golden chains touched her body, covered in a thin layer of ice. One hoof in front of the other, attempt after attempt. Her children had vanished, and it felt as though the ice around her had etched into her soul. Marembo, clutched and hidden beneath Rexanna’s mane in the cold, shivered and squeaked to console her while she forever seemed to search.
“Gwyn!” A voice called out in the abyss. Her ears flicked forward, recognizing the voice from however faint it had been. She tried to pick up her pace, rushing toward the location of the sound. She continued to move, hoping she was getting closer, when suddenly the voice called out again. Now, she was certain she knew the man behind the voice. She trudged on, muscles sore and cold and her body endlessly exhausted. “Rikyn?!” She called out, hoping she’d find his location, to find someone to talk to, to share warmth in this harsh winter, to share a peace of mind.
When she finally made it to the location of the sound, he was barely visible and yet she felt so close. “Rikyn, is that you?” She called out again, hopeless yet hoping.
Green Labyrinth
