Weather girl, where's your forecast?
From afar, she thought she could hear the ice calling to her. Snapping and cracking, the tremendous roar caused her legs to stiffen and her eyes to squeeze tightly shut, ears pinning back against her cranium to be muffled beneath her thick mane. The distance screams of ice seemed to be getting closer, as if some unknown force was sending a great crevice to swallow her up, to drag her to the icy depths. Images of her own body, sucked under by some spectral being, came to mind, her form stiffening as ice and water froze her form. Paralyzed, her body would sink, bubbles of air slowly emerging from clamped down lips as wide eyes settled upon a glassed over pair of amber optics belonging to a face frozen with fear. The face of her mother.

She felt like she might scream as her eyes flashed open, the whites of her eyes showing as wide margins around her normal tealy-grey orbs. Suddenly the world was calm again; no screaming phantoms, no distant smashing of ice clashing against an unknown source. Yet the pearly white gaze of her mother remained scarred upon her retinas, tattoo'd upon her soul like some sick, twisted curse.

She was shaking. She knew it. It was rare for the stocky mare to feel weak or afraid, and she had felt such fear only a few times in her relatively short lifetime. Once when she had been separated from her mother as a young foal, though she barely remembered it now. Again when her fathers herd had found their hiding spot, forcing the mares to flee. Mother always had told her of the cruel ways of her homelands barbarian stallions, so either mother nor daughter had any wish to be trapped like a leashed dog in some unforgiving herd. This was likely the third time the mare felt such fear. Fear of dying. Fear that if she did die, her mother would not be waiting for her.

Artemis! Her ears flickered and for a moment she thought the wind was playing tricks on her as it howled, billowing her long plait and slapping it roughly against her shoulder. Yet as he eyes meekly raised, he spotted the familiar white mask of Tharos. She stared, her expression blank with all emotion beside terror and anxiety. Her lips parted to respond, yet she did not speak. Slowly, she raised a hoof. His face eased her, if slightly, and the urge to get closer was strong, yet as she planted her foot the ice creaked dangerously. Freezing once again, she threw a look of complete confusion and vulnerability toward the stag. For only a moment, her fear stricken eyes met his.

She needed him.

Yet before she could ask for help - though that being said, by the parched feeling in her mouth and the numbness of her whole body, it would likely be a while before coherent words came out - a Pegasus made her way toward them. She seemed oblivious to the cracking ice, though she had wings so it was likely she simply didn't care. Fool, thought the white creature. Wings will only made you sink faster if you are not fast enough to use them. Artemis could barely here her words over the wind that bashed her ears, but her tone was flat and uninterested. Artemis had no time to wonder why she was there, for her eyes were pinned upon her friend and his alone, no longer focusing on 'Blood' beside her. "Tharos, I need help. I need you." She managed to mutter, her voice uncharacteristically meek as she felt the ice groan under her weight. Her sweating hooves were heating the ice beneath her. She needed to move.

"Speech goes here"