Frozen

by B_25

1 – Cave

Spike awoke in a cold sweat, his every breath a struggle for air as his eyes fought to adjust to his surroundings. It took few moments, seconds filled with panting and enduring the hammering of his heart, but as he managed to calm himself down, the drake began to remember where he was.

He turned his head on the stone floor, the darkness of his residence pushed back by the tiny green flame dancing on sticks in the center of the cave. Most of the bundled wood was charred, but the flame kept burning on, bringing little warmth to the area.

Spike rose to his feet and arched out his back, popping the kinks he'd developed overnight. His swept across the area as he did so, from the curved stone walls that rose around the tight space, to the faint trace of the ceiling made out by the diminished light.

The firewood crackled and echoed throughout the cave. Footsteps were pronounced and every breath was amplified in the area. Spike returned to where had awakened, kneeling as he began to roll up the brown cloth he had slept on. Once that was done, he stole a glance to his right, where he spotted a tan rucksack with a large top flap, which, after some movement from himself, placed the rolled-cloth underneath as he clicked the flap into the sack itself.

Rising, he swung the straps over his shoulders, coming to stumble back a few feet back from the weight. With a look of determination, he quickly rebalanced himself, took a step forward, and then another and another, getting into a steady pace. The length of the cave soon began to narrow, and at its entrance, a boulder blocked the opening; the hiss of wind cutting along its sides.

Spike laid a claw on it, shivering as it was cold to the touch. With a sigh, he glanced over his shoulder and at the dancing flame, the sight too much for him to bear as he clenched his eyes shut, placed both claws on the boulder, and in summoning all his strength, he slowly began to push against the rock, feeling it start to roll. In the new opening, a vacuum of frigid air sucked out the cave and extinguished the green flame.

The boulder soon came to shift in place, refusing to budge another inch. Spike stumbled away from it. He was at once blinded by shining light and attacked by the cold winds, making him shiver as he raised a claw over his eyes. He took a deep, cool breath, and made his first step back into the outside world.

After a few seconds of walking, Spike had reached the curve of the slop he was on, and was able to lower his claws as his eyes had finally adjusted. He looked outward, to the mist the enveloped the distant tundra, the haze too thick to see past, and the constant pour of heavy snow did nothing to help with visibility.

Spike felt his body freeze up, his legs and feet lock into place. There was no distant tower or landmark, no golden light to illuminate his path. He glanced back to the cave, the chances of him returning to it slim. He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply, thinking of lavender.