Snowed In

Snowed In

Skrie opened her eyes to light. She pushed the tarp aside and looked out the cave entrance, shielding her eyes against the blinding white of the deep snow. A cloudless azure sky promised a cold and challenging trek down into the valley for the first time in days.

"Good," she said. "I'm tired of waiting."

The young cleric hadn't wasted the days stuck in the small cave. When she saw signs of the storm rolling in, the halfling searched for a small cave in which to shelter. Securing her ground cloth to the entrance to hold in what heat she'd make, she went hunting--for both wood and food.

Gathering as much dry wood as she could find, she piled it close to the entrance. Then she cut down two small saplings. Some instinct told her to gather more of everything than she thought she might need, so instead of a brace of rabbits, Skrie set about looking for a young deer. She hated cleaning deer, but in this case, she'd put aside her distaste. She'd need the sinew to fashion a crude set of snowshoes, or she'd drown in the white stuff when she needed to travel.

Following a meandering game trail, she crept upon a young buck bedding down in a thicket. A careful aim, a gentle squeeze on the trigger of her crossbow, and she had venison. She wished she had the time, materials, and knowledge to cure the skin. The hide would make a nice coat. Instead, she scraped it down, cut it into strips, and dried it over the fire. She did the same with as much meat as she could carry. The rest she feasted on.

Later, she gathered her gear, settled it on her back, and snowshoed down the path.