Dual narrative

Snow. The wind had picked up and sunrays shimmered off the crystallised water. We had equivocal views concerning the phenomenon, the poor vision was only a mild discomfort compared to Hades’ frozen fire. It clawed the skin off our cheeks like a pack of mad wolves. The snow’s warm glow however, was welcome as it provided us placebo warmth. We wanted to believe it provided relief. And by doing so, it did. Our footsteps left impressive but ephemeral holes through the thoroughfare of the isolated village of Arni. Julian and I had a journey to make. One, that upon hearing the news, instilled sorrow in the hearts of our loved ones. The elaborate structure of the town was unforgettable. The old houses jogged memories of events long forgotten. We found ourselves a little hovel leading to an old alehouse. After strenuously treading through the many doors in the long hall, we and inquired the price of liquor from the barkeep. Our cups of golden beer warmed our gloveless hands. We sipped and kept our ears open for news. Recent rumours of bear frenzies circulated around the hamlet. A mammoth of storms commenced.

”Hmrrr”. The wind howled the song of our brethren, the bears. Tasty meats and food would emerge soon after the volley of ice without colour. I groaned loudly for I could not repress the yearning for sustenance within me. The perpetual hunger encoded inside me. My instinct. Stretching my back, I stood my back feet and scouted the ice, as it was habit. The view was predictable enough... The same, monotone, terrain.

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The snow crackled on every step taken. I could feel the tingle of frostbite. We wondered further but a swift hard breeze pushed us back. Julian yelled and fell, with that same action his scarf was ripped off by the wind like a lion hacking at its prey. The undergoing storm whipped the gelid blaze around us. We were forced to slow and crouch down many times because we simply lost the sensation of feeling. Hypothermia? The storm changed its mind temperamentally, swinging one way, then the other. Unpredictability became predictable.

The gale ‘s howling pulsated loudly. ...

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