You're busy dying if you're living in the past

By now, it had become painfully obvious that the Sun had more or less abandoned Helovia. Night had fallen over the land and plunged it into all consuming darkness; during the few weeks that had already passed by, the foliage began to shrivel and die without proper light, and the chill of Frostfall was made even more inconceivably bitter than it usually was in the Basin. However, and much to my eternal amusement, there were many who seemed to believe that the Gods would prevail and return Helovia to the so-called glorious land it had once been.

Their ignorance sickened me.

How could they, mere mortals, be so sure of themselves in the affairs of Gods, the ones who had molded and shaped this land centuries ago? The Gods were ancient beings, more powerful than all of Helovia's inhabitants combined, but even they weren't without their faults and weaknesses... Right? I didn't wish for it to happen, but they could still be killed like the rest of us. A fire could be doused, water boiled to nothing, earth crushed, or darkness shooed away by light and vice-versa. The night is darkest just before the dawn, they say; yet this particular night had plagued Helovia for weeks now, and it was slowly killing everything that it touched, myself included.

Though I was by no means a weakling, my sides had grown thinner since this unforgiving night had fallen. I would curse myself every time my body dared quake against the savage cold, and every time it failed to care for my annoyance, I would find myself wandering back to one of the many caves carved out in the base of the mountains, my favored shelter that was often shared with my dearest daughter as well as my hellion partner, Talbot. I could tell that they were both affected as well, and I would always do my best to share what warmth I could give them or scour the land with them for a satisfactory dinner. Our ventures never turned up much, however, and that was why I found the Basin at my back today as I left it behind. There must be better resources somewhere in this godforsaken land.

I had left my family of two behind, knowing well that I could trust Talbot to keep Rhiannon safe. The pup had grown considerably since the birth of our bond, both in mind and body, so my worries were little as I descended the slope that led away from the Basin and ended up pointing me towards the Frozen Arch, a favored meeting place for the Plague. As I approached it, I didn't expect to see the blue of it shimmering in the light as I usually would have, considering that the lights were out; but I could estimate just how close I was to it as I went on, stepping ever so carefully through the snow and picking my way around the boulders that dotted the tundra landscape.

What I hadn't expected so early in my journey to the central lands, however, was the company of others.

With a lack of sight, my other senses had grown quite acute, and I was surprised at just how strong the scent of two mares came to me. They weren't recognizable in the least, but I could tell they weren't of the Basin. My ears slowly laced back against my head, for they were much too close to the beloved land I called home, but before I could shout some grumpy retort at them, a most joyful thought came to my mind instead. If they were so foolish to wander away from their friends, their family, then why did they deserve nothing more than a verbal warning to get away? I would give them one, but the way I presented myself wouldn't be what they were expecting.

My movement didn't seize as I drew closer, though I assured that my steps could be heard over one's incessant blabbering about companionship. I'd get as close as I could to them without actually touching them, if I could manage at least, but I would not speak. Let them fear the night in a land they surely did not know well. Let them cower and not know which way to run.

Let them entertain me in this dark Hell, at least for a little while.