Lia had thought the Russian winters were harsh. So much colder than France, and Lia had to put aside her distaste for furs in order to simply stay mildly warm. She had felt her hands freezing during those long carriage rides, during the walks accompanying the Empress around the palace grounds. So many nights, Lia had begged the maids to put a warmer into her bed and then thrown herself under the covers with the metal and hot coals in a desperate need to thaw.
It was so little compared to this. Lia did not quite understand except that magic was involved. Winters were not usually this harsh, especially at the onset of spring or so she had been told. It was also hardly any help.
She was dressed in layers. Sweating into most, feeling it freeze against her skin as she walked and shoved her way through the snow. It was exhausting work, work that made her think of childhood, of striving to get up one more hill to sled down with D'Eon carried on her back because he was small enough his legs wouldn't allow him to get through the snowdrifts.
She has found a few people, signalled to other rescuers, helped drag some back to Caer Glaem. The ring she is making now is wider, and she smells smoke before she ever sees it, the acrid smell carried on the bitter cold and nearly making her cringe as she inhales.
Easier said than done to head there. Lia is panting, her breath seeming to become ice crystals before even fully out of her lips. Upon approach she sees small animals, but of course they could not build a fire.
Then her eyes process a girl. She is so pale she may as well blend into the snow, save her clothing, and it takes Lia only a moment longer to recognize Pod. The girl from the library.
She has to remember she is not so young. She is not a child, not in anything but age, not a noble child as Lia has been used to dealing with. "Pod," She calls out, arms waving as she nearly topples over into the snow, but manages to regain her balance at the last moment.
Lia is panting by the time she manages to get over to the fire, to survey what Pod has done. "Are you alone out here?"
no subject
It was so little compared to this. Lia did not quite understand except that magic was involved. Winters were not usually this harsh, especially at the onset of spring or so she had been told. It was also hardly any help.
She was dressed in layers. Sweating into most, feeling it freeze against her skin as she walked and shoved her way through the snow. It was exhausting work, work that made her think of childhood, of striving to get up one more hill to sled down with D'Eon carried on her back because he was small enough his legs wouldn't allow him to get through the snowdrifts.
She has found a few people, signalled to other rescuers, helped drag some back to Caer Glaem. The ring she is making now is wider, and she smells smoke before she ever sees it, the acrid smell carried on the bitter cold and nearly making her cringe as she inhales.
Easier said than done to head there. Lia is panting, her breath seeming to become ice crystals before even fully out of her lips. Upon approach she sees small animals, but of course they could not build a fire.
Then her eyes process a girl. She is so pale she may as well blend into the snow, save her clothing, and it takes Lia only a moment longer to recognize Pod. The girl from the library.
She has to remember she is not so young. She is not a child, not in anything but age, not a noble child as Lia has been used to dealing with. "Pod," She calls out, arms waving as she nearly topples over into the snow, but manages to regain her balance at the last moment.
Lia is panting by the time she manages to get over to the fire, to survey what Pod has done. "Are you alone out here?"