Emberwood headup

the morning air is bitingly crisp and the ground is laden with a coating of frost.

he is grateful it has not snowed over yet. 

his stomach feels like it’s boring a hole through his torso. the taste of bile taints the dryness of his tongue.

perhaps this exhaustion was the reason for the dull ache in his head. 

and so he sought to put an end to it, 

hope finds itself in the form of small footprints breaking the frost.

he follows the rodent’s trail dutifully.

She trailed the dark boy idly. He reminded her of something, perhaps. Anathema couldn't be sure, but she thought she might find out if she could only speak to him. Just for a moment.

If she could hear him; there was a great rush in her ears, always. Black waters in her veins. She ought to have been back at the sea by now. Instead she was here, following some boy, maybe because she'd been foolish enough to lose the last one. To lose her sister.

Maybe this would make it better.

She followed him while he followed his scent trail, watching; unblinking.

in his blind hunger-driven pursuit, he hadn’t realized that it was him who was being followed.

the rodent’s path leads him through the underbrush. 

he ducks beneath the bulk of the icy vegetation. skillful, silent.

despite his stealth and effort, he is displeased with what he finds.

the path ends at a hole in the ground, the rodent had ventured into a burrow of some sort. wide enough for only his snout to fit.

nonetheless, he sticks his snout in, giving the burrow a hearty sniff before pulling away, snorting.

a rustle behind him.

he warily turns his head.