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Word Count: 357
Winter was fast approaching, and Anaia was in no way ready to face the snow. Rather than reminding her of the fun of her childhood with her family, she thought of the storm that plunged her into confusion. She thought of the avalanche that ruined her hope of finding her family again. She thought of the cold that drove her south – much as it was doing now – and into their arms.
She couldn’t move fast enough.
Every morning, frost caused the leaves to glitter and her breath to puff around her mouth whenever she exhaled. More and more often, the sun was obscured behind threatening clouds. It got colder. Her best hope was to go south as fast as she could, and maybe she could avoid the worst of the winter.
Truth be told, she didn’t expect to survive until spring. She’d been struggling since she left the Cove, and with most of her prey going into hibernation she knew she wouldn’t be able to hunt. Maybe she would get lucky and find the occasional carcass, but it wouldn’t be enough.
She tried not to think about it.
As she wandered, the white woman could hear water growing louder each day, and today she seemed fated to find it. The ground suddenly sloped away from her feet, creating a ravine that guided the flow. The rock was blanketed in green moss, and a fine mist sprayed up from the falls that entered the ravine. Anaia paused, then started scrambling down to reach the river. She made sure to stay away from the waterfall, preferring to enter the river from further down. She could still hear it though, its thundering crashing into her sensitive ears.
Anaia stopped at the water’s edge, trying to decide if she should cross here or try to find another place. It wasn’t high water season and the stream wasn’t too terribly wide here, but the current still seemed fast enough that she might not be able to make it in her weakened state. But wouldn’t it be better to perish here, now, rather than slowly starve in the cold that was to come?
"Speech" Thought