Ficcy thingy
So, for once, I have a bit of story before I have anything even remotely resembling a title. This might be written super fast, or really slow. We'll see.
Eventually Xander and Willow, possibly even Xander/Willow. In this part, we have only an OC.
This time of year, the mountains were bitterly cold.
She'd known that, of course. Her parents were avid cross country skiers and took them on holiday to the mountains every winter. Some of her fondest memories had been of these mountains, making her way down the paths to the tiny cottages tucked away in the pines where she and her parents would stop for grog and hot apple cider before continuing on.
It was a lot easier to navigate the mountains on skis. Or even snow shoes. The snow was nearly a meter deep, and with every step she sank in almost up to her waist. Her pants were soaked and sticking to her legs. She'd lost her down jacket several weeks ago when she was taken by the demons, and her striped sweater was heavy with snow and ice. Her cheeks burned in the cold, and she couldn't be sure if she even still had a nose.
She had no idea why she wasn't dead yet.
It had been three days since she'd escaped. Three days of walking and staggering west, hoping to come to a town, or a house, or anything that might mean getting warm, getting a change of clothing, and getting help. Two nights of curling up in the limbs of pine trees and trying to catch a few hours of sleep without freezing to death or running across any more demons.
If she could just find a town, she thought she might be safe. She could find a phone, borrow or steal the money she needed, and get a train home. She was pretty sure she was getting close to the edge of the mountains now, and that meant more civilization. She just had to keep walking.
She'd never been religious, but she sent up a prayer, anyway. Asking for guidance, protection, and maybe, just maybe, an angel to take her home.
-----
Might be more tomorrow or even possibly tonight.
Eventually Xander and Willow, possibly even Xander/Willow. In this part, we have only an OC.
This time of year, the mountains were bitterly cold.
She'd known that, of course. Her parents were avid cross country skiers and took them on holiday to the mountains every winter. Some of her fondest memories had been of these mountains, making her way down the paths to the tiny cottages tucked away in the pines where she and her parents would stop for grog and hot apple cider before continuing on.
It was a lot easier to navigate the mountains on skis. Or even snow shoes. The snow was nearly a meter deep, and with every step she sank in almost up to her waist. Her pants were soaked and sticking to her legs. She'd lost her down jacket several weeks ago when she was taken by the demons, and her striped sweater was heavy with snow and ice. Her cheeks burned in the cold, and she couldn't be sure if she even still had a nose.
She had no idea why she wasn't dead yet.
It had been three days since she'd escaped. Three days of walking and staggering west, hoping to come to a town, or a house, or anything that might mean getting warm, getting a change of clothing, and getting help. Two nights of curling up in the limbs of pine trees and trying to catch a few hours of sleep without freezing to death or running across any more demons.
If she could just find a town, she thought she might be safe. She could find a phone, borrow or steal the money she needed, and get a train home. She was pretty sure she was getting close to the edge of the mountains now, and that meant more civilization. She just had to keep walking.
She'd never been religious, but she sent up a prayer, anyway. Asking for guidance, protection, and maybe, just maybe, an angel to take her home.
-----
Might be more tomorrow or even possibly tonight.