Golden Glade the escape

She was so frantic; practically hopping from foot to foot as if the ground was lava, shifting her weight away from every shadow and pirouetting when the wind was particularly bad (making the boughs quake). There was more movement behind her as some snow was sifted loose. She would've jumped in to his arms if he had any, a damsel in distress to the full extent. When he uttered his solution she whipped about again until her eyes caught upon him, and she watched him. Studied that face for dishonesty (and she only saw concern knit across his brow) watched his posture for any change in mood (still, he was concerned for her), and when nothing changed she nodded furiously. Her coltish body finally stopped moving but her ears never did, her eyes shifting to the shadows and the many paths of the forest, to the piles of snow which would betray their course; but she spoke of none of this, only watched him for clues as to where to go - what to do - for orders, for permission.