Satin Ink
The wind howls around me, whirling and wailing and whipping my hair into a frenzy. My thin cloak is no armour against the bitter cold, biting at my skin so that my toes curl in their boots. The ground trembles, and I fear it will crack open at any moment, swallowing me up into the depths of darkness.
With a blinding flash, the heavens open and a heavy bulk of snow crashes from above, spinning and tumbling among the clouds. I am thrashed from side to side, curled up in a ball to protect myself from the sky's bullets hammering on my head. There is no escape. And it snows harder.
The gale puffs at my tingling skin, a scream building in my throat though nothing comes out and I am choked by the wind. Icicles drop like daggers from the sky, and I try not to imagine them slicing through my skull. And it snows harder.
The trees scream and despair, twirling in a dance of torture as they wave their branches through the thick air and beg for the end. And it snows harder.
Spluttering and spitting, the ice buries my feet and drowns my ankles, sending jolts of electricity coursing up my back. And it snows harder.
Whimpering, I sinking into a mound of deadly white poison. And it snows harder.
This is the end. Yet still, it snows harder.
And harder.
And harder.
And it stops.
Is it safe to look?
Tendrils of ice dance up my spine, so the hairs on my neck stand to attention in the motionless air. Crystals hang from emerald leaves, glistening so the shrubs glisten in the Sun's cool light.
Puffs of snow sputter from the clouds like the final dregs of a candyfloss machine, and they float to my feet; carried by a gentle breeze that tickles my hair and drapes it over scarlet ears.
The towers sheltering me from the storm reach out their gnarled branches, pointing and whispering excitedly at the icy cotton drifting from a once-cerulean sky. Fluffy clouds are dotted around like amethysts in the sparkling ocean up above, smiling at me shivering on the ground. A picture of serenity.
But I am not alone.
Her moon-like eyes stare into my hearts, holding the earth and sky and everything in between. Her velvety fur shimmers in the glow of crystal dewdrops on the bushes, and she stumbles to and fro on unsteady legs.
"A baby deer?" I voice my thoughts, vainly hoping for a rely. She daintily sniffs at my outstretched hand and I laugh out loud, tinkling silver bells echoing through the still air. I am not alone.
Winter has breathed her magical breath over the forest, sending a blanket of snow tumbling over baked soil, causing the branches to wreathe around one another so they are entangled, like the arms of tortured lovers. My very own Winter Wonderland.
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