Summer 4, 509 AV Aello was walking silently through the snow, on the look out for something to eat. A peacock-feather tipped arrow had already been laced onto her bow. The three middle fingers of her right hand had wrapped around it, pressing it lightly into the bowstring, and assuring that it didn't go anywhere. The edges of the bowstring seemed to dig into her pale flesh, causing her fingers to sting, turn red, and then grow numb with the cold. Her left hand was gripping the center of the bow's wooden frame rather tightly, although her fingers had largely lost their feeling, and taken on a blue edge. Her throat felt dry, as each of her inhalations and exhalations seemed to freeze in midair. A pale white mist that floated around the edges of her pink lips; trying to match the color of her skin. Although buried beneath a thick head of relatively long brown hair, the girl's ears had turned red long ago, as had her nose. It stung a bit, but the girl ignored it, being so intent on the completion of her task. "Hopefully some sort of animal will pop out of the snow soon," Aello whispered. Her bow was dangling by her side, the arrow pointed at the ground. She wouldn't lift it until the last moment, when she was preparing to shoot whatever it was that she found. This would keep her from accidently shooting something, or someone that she did not intend to. Or shooting falsely, at nothing more than a blanket of white snow, glistening in the morning sunlight. "It is simply getting later and later, and there is nothing to be found. It makes one wonder if there is even anything in this place to be hunted," Aello mused, as she crept forward, through the endless expanse of snow. As she walked, a steady breeze swept over the snow, brushing a thin sheet of sparkling white over her boots, as it pushed her hair off her shoulders; sending it swirling wildly around her face, before letting it back down rather softly. The ends of her long brown hair swayed in the remnants of the breeze, this place is way too petching cold, even in the summer time, Aello thought, deciding that it was not worth spending all that much more time here if she constantly had to sport heavy cloaks and jackets and furs in order to stay even remotely warm. Especially when it was breezy! That was the worst, you couldn't keep yourself warm for shit. Even the locals seemed to have problems, or at least, they were less likely to go out when it was windy. Maybe Aello should have taken a page out of their book and done what they have done... stayed the hell home! Especially with it being so cold out; when Aello could no longer tell what walked with her. But then again, how easily would one notice the dead when they were doing their level best to conceal themselves? When they did not materialize or project in order to maintain their soulmist levels; to keep their power from depleting so that it may be used for other things? Who would so much as remember them anyway, the dead, that they walked among the living from time to time? Who but Aello? Who for the time being, was oblivious to it all, and this, the ghost knew. Perhaps it took pity on Aello's inability to notice- to pick up on all the usual signs; a cool breeze, the notion that you were being watched with the weather and her heightened level of concentration on her hunting task. Or perhaps, it did not and simply wanted to show her after hiding for so long; like the animals she hoped to find the longer her eyes darted back and forth over the terrain; the longer she forced herself to keep on looking. For just before she felt his touch, she caught a glimpse of fading black hair out of the corner of her eye; of olive-colored skin before his hand brushed hers, and she heard the wind carry the single word, "hello." Her eyes grew wide as her heart picked up the pace, "what are you doing?" she whispered, uncertain as to whether or not she had seen anything, or was simply starting to imagine things now that she had been out in the cold for a little bit too long. Aello's hand had turned to ice by the time her vision of him had left; was he holding her hand? Or was it simply the wind? Being at work too long? "Are you here?" Aello called, almost certain that the ghost had been imagined; the jet black hair; fading, but still almost as dark as night. And then she felt it, she felt him. Aello's breath caught in her throat as she tossed her head back, and closed her eyes. She could sense him trying to take control of her body, trying to understand how it differed from that which he had in life. After a few seconds, she returned her head to its normal position. "But it was already so cold," she whispered, her words turning into a clear, white mist as soon as they left her lips. |