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07-12-2013, 11:49 AM
 Cold, yes it was very cold. A stale chill, one without wind or breath. Snow had turned to ice, slush that weighted sleeping timbers as if frozen in a never changing climate. Silver lantern trees speckled the way along Thresholds many trails. Only the main ones were lit enough to be easily maneuvered. I walked these illuminated paths, eyes doing an area swivel every few moments, nostrils flared and ears stood at the ready—they flicked toward any and all sounds that seemed out of the norm. In the dark, no sound was easily ridden off as normal though. Danger seemed to be creeping from the shadows, its slippery fingers licked along rear hocks; as if daring me to leave the trail. I frowned at our misty world, my wings ruffled nervously against two toned flesh before settling.
It wasn’t long before my senses caught wind of a musky essence, a young woman to be exact. Quietly I stepped from the trail, knowingly halting where the shadows faded into darkness totally—straining, my eyes tried to peer through the darkness and see what a sensitive nose could already smell. Fear, weakness. If something didn’t change whoever it was would surely be in grave danger, tenderly I called out, beckoning her with my voice alone, “Don’t be afraid, I can sense the fear and it only draws dangerous creatures—come into the light, that I might meet you.” In the dark, it was also hard to trust—but I hoped that this lady might find comfort from my tone—Cera often had. Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
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