A Perilous Crossing (Closed)
Nov 28, 2015 1:12:54 GMT -6
Post by Richter Abend on Nov 28, 2015 1:12:54 GMT -6
“Mavick’s right about the fire,” agreed Richter, nodding to the smaller man. “It’s not feasible in this kind of snow.” The Ilian looked to his other two companions with a dour visage upon his face. “But you might as well get comfortable because until this windstorm stops, I’m not taking us onward.” He shook his head, his pink mane dancing about as the wind played with his hair. Richter knew they’d have to move on eventually or risk starving, but he had made sure to pack enough rations to account for unplanned days. It was simply second nature to an Ilian. The North was brutal, unforgiving country, and every one of its denizens knew that to survive its icy plains you had to be always readied and always cautious; prepare for the worst, and never take unnecessary risks. Those who didn’t follow those rules died.
“Have to dig,” muttered Richter, nodding at the ground. He outlined a large circle with his good hand, "make a snow shelter." In that moment he was grateful that he’d worn his oiled leather trousers. They were especially resistant to water, which was perfect for crawling through this kind of snow. Not everyone would be so well prepared, not everyone was Ilian, but that’s why he’d had them bring the hide blankets. Traditional bedding didn’t work in the snowier corners of Ilia. “There’s not really another option," he began, as if addressing any potential protest, "there are no trees to build a shelter, no caves to claim for ourselves, and although there’s plenty of rock, we have neither the tools nor the time to use it.”
He then looked up over his shoulder as the invisible wind continued to howl around them. The sun had not yet begun to set, but it had begun its afternoon descent.
"One big enough for four people will take us about three hours if we all pitch in. Richter put a hand over his brown and pointed up at the sun. "We'll have more than enough time if we start after we eat, and with this ice wall we won't need to worry about freezing while we work."
“Have to dig,” muttered Richter, nodding at the ground. He outlined a large circle with his good hand, "make a snow shelter." In that moment he was grateful that he’d worn his oiled leather trousers. They were especially resistant to water, which was perfect for crawling through this kind of snow. Not everyone would be so well prepared, not everyone was Ilian, but that’s why he’d had them bring the hide blankets. Traditional bedding didn’t work in the snowier corners of Ilia. “There’s not really another option," he began, as if addressing any potential protest, "there are no trees to build a shelter, no caves to claim for ourselves, and although there’s plenty of rock, we have neither the tools nor the time to use it.”
He then looked up over his shoulder as the invisible wind continued to howl around them. The sun had not yet begun to set, but it had begun its afternoon descent.
"One big enough for four people will take us about three hours if we all pitch in. Richter put a hand over his brown and pointed up at the sun. "We'll have more than enough time if we start after we eat, and with this ice wall we won't need to worry about freezing while we work."
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