Duskfire Glacier their dreams lie shattered here

The little scavenger sniffed over the floor with boredom, plucking a ragged feather from the cold floor and clutching it tightly between her jaws. Though it was nothing but trash, Maera found feather the most wonderful of all, not only did she love running the silky object over her face and nose but she had also found that piling them up helped made a plush pillow inside her hollow log; this one was dirty and tattered but would still be making the trip back home with the young Sveijarn.

There were times when one couldn't be too picky.
With the crumpled feather hangling from her lips, Maera prepared to go back home. A torn up feather was not a bad catch -- not in the girl's book. However before she could slip again into the yellow brick road that led back to her wonderland, a hoarse voice erupted from the earth.

She turned around, frightened but curious, expecting to find a witch or an evil fairy to plop in front of her. She waited, the feather still in her mouth, but nothing happened. She wriggled her nose in an attempt to catch a familiar scent but all she found was the tangy odour of decay and misery. More curious thab before she began to slide closer to where the cries has come from.

Her eyes fell onto a raggedy rug of white, that at first laid unrecognizable to the young pup. "Come out" she barked, while casting her eyes to the sky and then the trees around her, if only she knew that her best memory from home laid under her nose.