The cold claws of winter wrapped around her and squeezed as she plunged into the frigid waters that surrounded the lost islands. Air stuck in her throat, cut off by the sudden contraction of all her muscles. She faltered, chest deep in ice littered water and then choked a ragged breath from her lungs. The swim would not be easy but nothing worth a damn in life was.
The water seeped through the grulla mare’s thick winter coat, chilling her bones and numbing her skin. Her legs felt heavy and stiff as they pushed against the tide, churning away below the surface. To reach the shore, she would have to put it out of her mind. The journey would not ail her. She thought only of her destination. The shore welcomed her with open arms, though the morning wind slapped her with frosty hands. The wind was worse than the water. She suppressed a shiver.
The commons spread out before her eyes, caked in a thick layer of hard, white snow. Spindly, naked trunks sprouted from the white, reaching out to the heavens for some solace from the bitter cold but were ultimately left to their gloom. The mare did not help. Instead she reached out to the nearest tree, teeth grasping the bark purposefully before she ripped it from its trunk. There would be no pushing back the solid snow below her hooves for something more nutritious so it would have to do. She needed to replenish her strength before trekking further into the belly of the beast.
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