Arrow Lake float like a butterfly

Fern returned to the lakeside in the early evening, and the wind was blustering at such a pace that it had blown away a lot of the cloud-cover from earlier; it was still overcast, but the bulk of the weather had been forced away from overtop where she was standing. For a few moments she glimpsed the sky. The brilliance of the stars was unmistakeable. Fern watched them for a few moments - looking somewhat awed by their presence - until they were obscured again.

The woman's attention drifted away from the stars once they were hidden from her. She began to trail along the lake's edge as carefully as she could, but... Fern was no mountaineer. Her movement was a little bit sloppy as she slipped across icy stones or misjudged a stride or two, and soon the frustration was getting the better of her. All she wanted was to find a relatively easy route along the lake's edge so she could rest, and then in the morning try to fish up some breakfast. At this rate she'd be battered, bruised, and too pissed off come morning time.