Florida
イーグランツ
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2007
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Major update. This is a story I'm working on in my spare time, just for fun. I have a lot of ideas, and this single story is really motivating me into becoming an author. Tell me what you think, please. What you're seeing is a segment of the first chapter. Note: honestly, it's easier to follow in Microsoft Word D:.
SNOW WAS BEING blasted in each direction, obscuring all objects from view. Nothing could be heard over the fierce, howling winds. Light was rejected by the raging squalls which cast their white clots to blot out the sun, leaving the top of Mount Tasan engulfed in a faint darkness. The temperature continued to drop excessively, freezing over anything that hinted at warmth… The storm raged on, growing stronger as the hours passed…
Aleta dragged her feet for another step, leaving a thin scrape in the snow which the wind swiftly took away. Aleta was a young, beautiful woman: She was slim and stood at five foot and eight inches; her long, silky hair was a light shade of auburn that shone even in a distorting blizzard such as this; her face was long and lean, perfect with no blemishes or scars and full with a peachy color; her nose was straight, small, and slightly pointed; her eyebrows were thin and narrow; her eyelashes were long and dark; her eyes glowed a bright blue that twinkled proudly; and her straight, spotless teeth sparkled a terrific white that would not dare blend with the surrounding snow.
Aleta cursed at the chill and the winds and the intensity of the storm as she was barely able to follow her companion through the extreme situation.
“Michael!” she called. “Michael, let’s go back! The storm is too much!”
No response was heard. Aleta watched as Michael kept advancing through the storm, oblivious to her plead. She rushed to get closer to him, but the wind took advantage: Its strong gusts pushed Aleta back, forcing her to the ground.
“Michael!” Aleta called again. Her soft and high-pitched voice could not travel far before being thrashed by the piercing winds.
Michael was barely visible now; slowly he began to vanish, hidden behind the massive clutters of snow. Aleta pushed herself up, struggling to beat the violent blizzard. Stumbling as she took steps forward, she hoped to somehow catch up to him.
“Michael!” once more she cried out, and once more there was no reply.
The rampage of the snow kept Aleta from keeping her eyes open for more than a few seconds. Her progress forward was slow and altogether pointless: For each step she took, she had to make an effort to escape her feet from the deep cave-ins that the snow happily designed for her. What is more is that the several coats, shirts, pants, underwear, socks, gloves, scarves, and the thick and uncomfortable boots she wore made sticking close to Michael difficult, but they have been keeping her content up until now.
With her clothes she felt as stiff and inflexible as a petrified tree; she was a penguin trying to fly in the scorching heat of the desert.
Quickly Aleta gained distance from Michael, who further disappeared as the deafening snowstorm continued. Aleta watched from afar as his dark figure grew more and more transparent. Soon enough, Michael could not be seen; the snow covered his previous, faint silhouette completely, leaving Aleta lost in the cold, dark blizzard.
“MICHAEL!” Aleta bawled with all of her effort. The sharpness of her scream scratched her throat, causing her to follow with hurtful coughing.
Her cry could not be heard. With no reply, instantly she felt trapped, alone, and scared. She was quick to cry, although the freezing gales did not allow tears to emerge from her eyes. Overtaken, she fell, or rather, she sat, to expose the light layer of long underwear at her lower back to the icy, bitter snow. Her spine jumped at the sudden coldness, and the snow was slow-going to melt and slide down to reach the area that she really hoped would be covered well enough… Angrily, Aleta hurried to stand, but instead slipped and planted her face in the snow.
Freezing, wet, afraid, lonely, and lost, Aleta felt the cold numbness quickly overtake her body. Now there was not an area where she could not feel the suppressing freeze of the snow. She stood back up, by doing so in a smooth and steady way this time, and locked her hands in her armpits to try and keep them warm, but the frigid snowstorm was now a king of cold: Her body shivering rapidly and her teeth shattering uncontrollably, Aleta lost all feeling.
It was not long before when Michael and she set off into this blizzard, so even though she could not see it, Aleta knew that the warm, comfortable shack where she and Michael were staying was waiting for her not far from where she was. Feeling as though she had no other option, Aleta turned to the direction she thought to be backward, and hurried off clumsily to find her shack.
Fighting against the storm grew exceedingly more challenging: Aleta no longer had the will or tolerance to put up with the freeze and the loud winds and the flying chunks of ice hitting her every instant. She found herself constantly tripping over hidden rocks and running into invisible trees; she was dependant on Michael for leading her on a safe path before. Where is Michael? she thought. Did he forget about me? Is he sitting in a cozy chair eating hot soup next to a warm fire at the base, while I’m out here getting frostbite?
She truthfully knew that Michael was perfectly aware of her absence and was searching for her at that very moment, or at least, she hoped as much. He might have even made it to base in order to have a searching party come out and look for her. She just simply felt the need to cast an emotion or two of anger toward him for convincing her to come with him on his insane expedition to begin with.
As she awkwardly advanced through the blizzard, while continuing to think negative thoughts, a sudden and overwhelming outburst of wind slammed against the resisting Aleta. She threw her arms in front of her, and leaned forward with as much of her strength she could provide. Without the wind she would have fallen forward flatly, but she was supported and overpowered. In moments of wasteful contest, Aleta was easily thrown over, and vast amounts of snow prolonged to pile on her. Each time that she would try to stand or sit back up, a giant, flying patch of snow would smack her back to the ground. She yelled and cried as she was being taken by the snow.
SNOW WAS BEING blasted in each direction, obscuring all objects from view. Nothing could be heard over the fierce, howling winds. Light was rejected by the raging squalls which cast their white clots to blot out the sun, leaving the top of Mount Tasan engulfed in a faint darkness. The temperature continued to drop excessively, freezing over anything that hinted at warmth… The storm raged on, growing stronger as the hours passed…
Aleta dragged her feet for another step, leaving a thin scrape in the snow which the wind swiftly took away. Aleta was a young, beautiful woman: She was slim and stood at five foot and eight inches; her long, silky hair was a light shade of auburn that shone even in a distorting blizzard such as this; her face was long and lean, perfect with no blemishes or scars and full with a peachy color; her nose was straight, small, and slightly pointed; her eyebrows were thin and narrow; her eyelashes were long and dark; her eyes glowed a bright blue that twinkled proudly; and her straight, spotless teeth sparkled a terrific white that would not dare blend with the surrounding snow.
Aleta cursed at the chill and the winds and the intensity of the storm as she was barely able to follow her companion through the extreme situation.
“Michael!” she called. “Michael, let’s go back! The storm is too much!”
No response was heard. Aleta watched as Michael kept advancing through the storm, oblivious to her plead. She rushed to get closer to him, but the wind took advantage: Its strong gusts pushed Aleta back, forcing her to the ground.
“Michael!” Aleta called again. Her soft and high-pitched voice could not travel far before being thrashed by the piercing winds.
Michael was barely visible now; slowly he began to vanish, hidden behind the massive clutters of snow. Aleta pushed herself up, struggling to beat the violent blizzard. Stumbling as she took steps forward, she hoped to somehow catch up to him.
“Michael!” once more she cried out, and once more there was no reply.
The rampage of the snow kept Aleta from keeping her eyes open for more than a few seconds. Her progress forward was slow and altogether pointless: For each step she took, she had to make an effort to escape her feet from the deep cave-ins that the snow happily designed for her. What is more is that the several coats, shirts, pants, underwear, socks, gloves, scarves, and the thick and uncomfortable boots she wore made sticking close to Michael difficult, but they have been keeping her content up until now.
With her clothes she felt as stiff and inflexible as a petrified tree; she was a penguin trying to fly in the scorching heat of the desert.
Quickly Aleta gained distance from Michael, who further disappeared as the deafening snowstorm continued. Aleta watched from afar as his dark figure grew more and more transparent. Soon enough, Michael could not be seen; the snow covered his previous, faint silhouette completely, leaving Aleta lost in the cold, dark blizzard.
“MICHAEL!” Aleta bawled with all of her effort. The sharpness of her scream scratched her throat, causing her to follow with hurtful coughing.
Her cry could not be heard. With no reply, instantly she felt trapped, alone, and scared. She was quick to cry, although the freezing gales did not allow tears to emerge from her eyes. Overtaken, she fell, or rather, she sat, to expose the light layer of long underwear at her lower back to the icy, bitter snow. Her spine jumped at the sudden coldness, and the snow was slow-going to melt and slide down to reach the area that she really hoped would be covered well enough… Angrily, Aleta hurried to stand, but instead slipped and planted her face in the snow.
Freezing, wet, afraid, lonely, and lost, Aleta felt the cold numbness quickly overtake her body. Now there was not an area where she could not feel the suppressing freeze of the snow. She stood back up, by doing so in a smooth and steady way this time, and locked her hands in her armpits to try and keep them warm, but the frigid snowstorm was now a king of cold: Her body shivering rapidly and her teeth shattering uncontrollably, Aleta lost all feeling.
It was not long before when Michael and she set off into this blizzard, so even though she could not see it, Aleta knew that the warm, comfortable shack where she and Michael were staying was waiting for her not far from where she was. Feeling as though she had no other option, Aleta turned to the direction she thought to be backward, and hurried off clumsily to find her shack.
Fighting against the storm grew exceedingly more challenging: Aleta no longer had the will or tolerance to put up with the freeze and the loud winds and the flying chunks of ice hitting her every instant. She found herself constantly tripping over hidden rocks and running into invisible trees; she was dependant on Michael for leading her on a safe path before. Where is Michael? she thought. Did he forget about me? Is he sitting in a cozy chair eating hot soup next to a warm fire at the base, while I’m out here getting frostbite?
She truthfully knew that Michael was perfectly aware of her absence and was searching for her at that very moment, or at least, she hoped as much. He might have even made it to base in order to have a searching party come out and look for her. She just simply felt the need to cast an emotion or two of anger toward him for convincing her to come with him on his insane expedition to begin with.
As she awkwardly advanced through the blizzard, while continuing to think negative thoughts, a sudden and overwhelming outburst of wind slammed against the resisting Aleta. She threw her arms in front of her, and leaned forward with as much of her strength she could provide. Without the wind she would have fallen forward flatly, but she was supported and overpowered. In moments of wasteful contest, Aleta was easily thrown over, and vast amounts of snow prolonged to pile on her. Each time that she would try to stand or sit back up, a giant, flying patch of snow would smack her back to the ground. She yelled and cried as she was being taken by the snow.
