𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐃 | 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐈𝐗. 𝐒𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 she reached home, the winds were fervent. The snow was more than just a thin coating on the ground and the temperature was becoming cold enough to freeze the cobblestone roads.

Celine quickly gathered minimal supplies to keep her load light and moved to the front door. She stopped as she felt another presence behind her. She sighed and slowly turned to face her mother.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Celine averted her eyes. She didn't wish to hide anything from her mother, but she also knew if she told the truth that she would be stopped.

"You're going after Belle... the hunter and her father passed by not long before you arrived home."

"I can't just sit idly and do nothing," Celine replied gently, looking up at her mother, pleading.

Celine could tell that her mother wasn't pleased, but it didn't look as if she was going to stop her either. Althea gestured toward the door. "Be safe, mon petit ange."

"Merci, Maman." Celine placed a kiss on her mother's cheek, wrapped a cloak around herself, and ran out into the cold.

The snow slowed as she made her way into the forest and if she wasn't so focused on finding her friend, she might have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty of the evening.

The serene setting was disturbed by the howling of wolves in the distance. She froze in her tracks. Her eyes frantically flashed back and forth as she sought the source. The sound of another howl was the only thing that snapped her out of her trance. She took off at a sprint through the woods.

In the process, she caught a face full of snow from one of the lower branches, tripped and fell down a hill, and skidded across the slick surface of the iced over lake. However, the thin ice cracked and snapped under her feet. She panicked and thrashed before realizing that she was still within the shallows. Inconvenienced and freezing, she stood and shuddered.

She attempted to wring out her dress, but it froze much quicker than she anticipated. She climbed up the hill in front of her and wiped the freezing sweat from her brow. She shuddered again as another shrill wind tried to knock her over.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself before noticing that the tips of her fingers had started to turn blue. She lifted them close to her mouth and blew on them before rubbing them together in an attempt to warm them.

She caught some movement from the corner of her eye, and turned to see a small clump of snow from a nearby tree drop and land on the spikes of an iron gate.

Normally, she might have been cautious about proceeding forward; however, the cold was louder than her rational thought. She pushed the gates open and rushed onto the castle grounds.

The castle was dark and loomed overhead, but she paid the gothic structure no attention. She entered the castle and forced the doors closed behind her. She kept her back pressed up against them and slowly slid to the ground. Keeping her eyes closed, she inhaled to slow her breath.