Snow

Snow

The blizzard raged just outside Lila’s makeshift shelter. Made of a blanket spread over two logs leaning against a tree, the shelter offered hardly any protection from the cold. Inside Lila was huddled under a second blanket, squished against her horse, Thunder. The horse was lying down, and Lila used him as a couch. The smell of animal wasn’t that great, but at least he had quite a bit of body heat.

Lila’s stomach growled once, sadly. The blizzard had been going on for a day now. Thunder had eaten all his oats, and Lila had eaten most of her supplies. The final apple she was saving.

She pulled her blanket closer, then, under the thick cloth, she counted her fingers for the hundredth time. They were all there. With a sigh Lila snuggled closer to Thunder and closed her eyes. She was numb to the cold now, but it was still hard to sleep with the wind howling and the trees creaking in the night air.

The winds changed direction constantly, their eerie melody swooping along. Lila listened with her eyes closed, waiting to sleep.

Then the wind stopped.

Lila sat up quickly. Thunder groaned a protest, then raised his head. Lila looked at him, and saw exactly the opposite of what she wanted to see.
He was a dark horse, so he shouldn’t have been visible except for a black lump. But the whites of his eyes glowed slightly in the dark, and suddenly he surged to his feet. The logs of the shelter fell away, the blanket flopping lifelessly. Flakes swirled in.

“Oh no,” Lila breathed. She grabbed for Thunder’s halter, caught it, and pulled his face around to her. With her right hand she scrambled in the supplies and found his bridle. She had kept it fairly neat and it wasn’t hard to sort out the reins, which she threw over her horse’s head. In a swift motion she whipped off the halter, then forced the bit into Thunder’s mouth and buckled the bridle.

Still holding the reins, Lila pulled the blanket from the fallen logs and yanked it over Thunder’s back. Then she grabbed her bag and mounted, keeping her blanket securely around her. Luckily Thunder wasn’t thin and didn’t have high withers, so it was easy to ride him bare-back. Lila checked that her bag was in a safe spot between her legs, then leaned forward and gave her horse a small kick.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He leapt forward like a cat, springing over the fallen logs of Lila’s shelter. Then he was away like a shot, weaving between trees and leaping bushes at the canter.

All Lila could do was lean on his neck, keep a light feel on his mouth with her reins for support, and hope he could see better in the dark than she could.

A branch slashed across her right leg and Thunder’s flank. The horse ignored it, instead speeding up to get a better takeoff for jumping the next thornbush. Icy frost exploded up from under his hooves when he landed, flying into Lila’s face. The wind was still absent, the world spookily soundless, save for Thunder’s huffing, pounding hooves, and the crack of branches as the horse trampled them.

Suddenly Thunder skidded to a stop, and Lila nearly pitched forward over his shoulder. The horse shrieked out a whinny, then reared and whirled on his back hooves to face the way they’d come.

But something was there. Lila couldn’t see it, not quite, but she could sense it. Thunder shifted in a slow circle. They were surrounded. Thunder tossed his head and flicked his tail nervously.

After that there was complete and utter silence as the things approached.

They were black incarnate, composed of shadow, death, pain, misery—all things horrible and ghastly.

One spoke.

Spoke was not the right word. It was more of a shadow of the word, an evil counterpart. The sound sent shudders through Lila and caused Thunder to hop back in terror.

“Snow.”

And it did. Flakes fell, faster and faster, stinging against Lila’s cheeks and dappling Thunder’s haunches. The world disappeared from view. Lila could see only Thunder’s withers and a little of his mane; everything else was invisible.

She tightened the reins slightly, subconsciously. In response Thunder let out a whinny, muffled by the stifling flakes around them, and leapt forward.

Lila had time to scream, “Thunder—no!” before he sprang to the side. Lila caught a glimpse of rough brown bark half-covered by white and then Thunder was off. How he avoided charging headlong into a tree was an eternal mystery. But he managed, fighting his way through the wall of the blizzard.

Something laughed, harsh and rasping, on Lila’s left. Then the not-voice again, “Snow.”

The blizzard redoubled in force. Thunder’s dark coat disappeared under a second blanket of flakes. Lila tightened her grip with her legs and grabbed mane with one hand. With the other she pulled her blanket up to protect her face. Thunder kept moving, slower, each step requiring much effort. The blizzard was going to bury them, Lila thought despairingly. It was already scraping Thunder’s belly.

The horse refused to give up, however, and charged forward in a sort of leaping canter. Each step was a battle, each stride a war. But Thunder fought valiantly. He was forced to spring up with every stride, as if he were jumping a long line of jumps with very little space in between.

Suddenly something changed. Lila sensed it—the flakes were falling thicker and faster, as if they were no long being blocked by tree branches. When they landed, they formed a straight shot instead of deep drifts amongst shallower spots. They had left the forest.

Thunder sensed it too—he charged into a gallop, battling his way through the sea of white.

“Careful!” Lila called to him. She was unsure if he could hear, so she gathered her reins up a little more to hold them tightly, but to still let Thunder have his head. Otherwise he was more likely to get long and loose—and after that came slipping. He needed her support.

He shied unexpectedly, and Lila nearly catapulted over his shoulder. After regaining her balance she looked to the side and saw another shadow-thing.

“Snow.”

The thing disappeared behind a curtain of flurrying white flakes. Thunder screamed—in a challenge, or an acceptance of one, maybe—and shot forward. He put his head down and dragged each leg forward, ignoring the rising level of the blizzard.

But even with Thunder’s unrelenting stamina and determination, they weren’t going to make it. Lila’s pants were soaked up to mid-shin now and rising.
“Thunder, stop!” she shouted. She sat back and pulled him, with effort, to a halt. Then she dismounted into the frosty driftage. Thunder whinnied anxiously. “No, buddy,” Lila panted to him, “I’m not giving up.”

Instead she began digging into the side of the frozen sea. Wanting to keep speaking, Lila said, “We’re digging a shelter. Maybe that’ll work better than trying to get through the blizzard.” She didn’t have high hopes for this plan though.

Luckily the flakes were sticking, so the shelter didn’t collapse on Lila. She pulled Thunder in after her. He realized what to do and lay down. Lila sat beside him. Somewhere during the dash for safety she’d lost her bag—and with it her apple.

She didn’t know when she fell asleep, but she woke to complete silence and light filtering into her blue-white shelter.

Lila tried to stand and banged her head on the ceiling. A flurry of white, icy stuff fell onto her and Thunder. The horse raised his head and looked around. Lila could see the whites of his eyes.

“Easy, boy. We’re getting out, don’t you worry.” Lila went to a wall and started digging forward and up.

It was a long, hard job, and Lila was panting when she finally got out of the ice. When she did, she gasped.

To the right was the forest, trees capped with white. On the left the mountains rose, high and foreboding. But stretched out around her was a sea of pristine, sparkling ice.

She could have stayed there all day, but Thunder whinnied and she climbed back down to dig him a passage. It wasn’t nearly big enough when suddenly he charged past her, reins dangling, and forced his way out. Lila hurried out just behind in case he’d brought the shelter down.

He was standing still, surveying the land like a king. Even though he was black, Lila thought that he belonged here, on this frozen field.

“Come on, buddy,” she said, taking his reins. The ice seemed to hold their weight well, but she wasn’t going to mount him. She adjusted the horse blanket, which was falling off Thunder, then set out toward the mountains. Her home village, Kita, lay in the foothills of those mountains.

As they walked, Lila took one glance back at the forest and smiled. This had been caused because something had tried to kill her, but it was beautiful.

Then she turned away and focused on the mountains, still smiling. She and Thunder were frozen, had no food, and were fleeing the law because of something they didn’t do, but really, it was great to be alive.


THE END