Aire walked without thinking on without thinking. She felt so numb the cold barely affected her.
The snow crunched beneath her boots, and the cold wind bit against her wet cheeks. She didn't bother wiping the tears anymore.
There was nobody around to see them, mock her, or tell her that she was weak.
The forest stretched endlessly around her.
Aire lowered her head and kept moving, making sure her silver hair was properly covered, to avoid unnecessary hate from any wolves she might stumbled upon.
She planned to return to her small camp.
Aire swallowed hard. She refused to let her tears drop, as she had cried enough tonight.
The trees thinned the closer she got, and a familiar clearing appeared ahead.
She got closer to her tent, and saw smoke. Thin streams of gray smoke curled upward into the snowy night.
Aire froze. The sight immediately made her heart jump. She rushed forward, scared her tent might be burning to the ground.
