A chill runs down the length of her spine. If not for the screams Cerva would have fled. She isn’t bold and brave like her brothers; she is the meek daughter, the fragile child, of a magician. Being a hero is foreign to her, even frightening in this moment, but her legs are still moving. Deeper into the cavern she wanders with her nutmeg eyes darting from one side to another, her ears frantically swiveling.
Cerva is so funneled – so focused – on navigating the tunnel that the mere howl of the wind startles her. It cries as it threads through the twists and turns, carrying flecks of untouched snow. At first, she startles to the right, but when she sees a faint light in the distance, she follows.
They say not to follow the white light, but she doesn’t stop until her hooves have sunken into the snow. This is perhaps the only time that pursuing a strange light is conceivable and favorable.
It’s daylight, she mutters to herself reassuringly, but what would be gold and bright is instead white with purity due to the gray-white clouds overhead and the snowy landscape that engulfs her now. A single leg extends forward as she paws the precipitation, the mound of snow crumbling underneath the weight. When her gaze lifts she sees the two winding paths, then the titanic mountain that towers above. Although footsteps have worn down the trails her heart still trembles with uncertainty and fear. She heard a scream, but doesn’t now.
She cannot stop.
The paths, blanketed with snow and branching in different directions, are both foreboding. Cerva cannot decipher which would be more treacherous (at least not from her low vantage point) and so she guides herself down the more direct trail. ”Someone is in trouble,” as though she’s calming her nerves or speaking to Dovev, ”I have to get to them soon.” She doesn’t want to imagine their peril or if they are in pain and so she moves quickly with calculative steps until a rock tumbles down the mountainside in front of her.
Cerva has traipsed nearly half of the mountain before the rock crosses her path. She takes a brief pause and glances up only to see a shaggy mountain goat. Its unnatural grace carries it effortlessly down in the incline in front of her. Its large head turns, massive horns curling around its ears. Cerva’s lips curl into a small grin as she observes the animal with great curiosity; she has never before seen such a thing. She is about to inch closer until she hears a low growl shatter the icy silence. Despite the wind whipping through her locks Cerva cannot mistake the primal noise of a predator’s hunger. The mountain goat heeds the warning as well and is about to face the source, but before it can entirely pivot the snow leopard is already leaping into the air. Cerva lurches forward to intervene, but the leopard is still in midair when a giant hand grabs it and slams it across the path against the rocks. Cerva hears the bones snapping and breaking on impact, the snow leopard limp and the mountain goat stunned.
Amid the blistering wind and snowfall, the troll appears with its skin and sparse hair as porcelain as its habitat.
Never having seen one, and now seeing the ferocity it represents, Cerva begins to panic. The mountain goat screams and darts away up the path, melting into the grayness of this wintry world. Having not been noticed yet, Cerva is able to more closely see the troll as it steps slowly toward its kill. Its small eyes search the leopard hungrily as giant hands reach forward and grab the animal. There is a deafening crack as it splits the corpse in half.
It hardly has a neck; its small head seems to simply attach to thick, muscular shoulders. Its arms are thick as tree trunks, its teeth dagger-like as its mouth opens to begin ripping mercilessly into its kill. Cerva instinctively backs up, afraid, but that is her mistake.
She stumbles over a rock which rips the troll’s attention from its meal to her. ”Oh, no,” she catches herself whispering, trembling underneath its weighted stare. The growl that emits past its scarlet lips is far more menacing than the leopard’s and it vibrates through her entire core. The monster inches toward her now, its footsteps echoing and chilling her. The racing of her heart triggers the magic in her veins. Poison ivy sprouts from the earth and wraps around the troll’s legs. Like snakes they weave around and around, climbing frantically until the troll is immobilized by confusion. Cerva seizes the opportunity and lunges forward. She runs, her legs reaching hungrily for the ground underneath. She is climbing the path and while it seems safe now, she can hear (feel) her ivy ripping apart followed by the quickened footsteps of the troll behind her. The air is knives in her lungs, burning and slicing her throat as she heaves in and out. The snow and the steepness are exhausting, scalding her muscles as they exert far more than she’s ever needed to. The troll is gaining with such great strides and Cerva’s fear is gripping her throat like cold, dead fingers.
Is this really how she is going to die? What of Dovev?
He is the main thought creeping into her mind, fueling her. She can’t leave him – she doesn’t want to lose him because she was too weak and afraid.
But her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden pain. Her body is swinging, her hind quarters skidding across the snow and turning her 180 degrees so that she is facing the troll. Her right rear leg is throbbing where it slammed her, but she was just far enough away that there are no broken bones, only bruising. Her breath catches and for a moment she prepares to simply accept her fate. The troll towers over her, edging closer with bloody drool dripping down its lips and chin. This is it, this is the end.
How Cerva is able to see past the troll toward the small crevice in the mountain, she doesn’t know. It’s a beacon of hope calling to her. Just as the troll’s hand lifts, preparing to hit and slam her into the rocks, Cerva’s body drops into that of a badger. Her size immediately shrinks and her slippery hooves are suddenly replaced by paws and talons. She screeches in fright as she thrusts herself forward and between the troll’s legs. The ground vibrates with the sheer force of its fist slamming into the path. It whips around but she is already scrambling toward the small opening in the rock. Her body forces itself in, her claws groping for anything and everything to help propel her to safety. The troll, roaring in aggravation, tries slamming the rocks to break them and reach her, but she is easing further and further away from it until she is spat into a cave opening. There is no snow here, covered by a roof of rock and granite.
But she doesn’t stop. The scream echoes still in her head.
Shifting back into a horse, Cerva navigates through the chasm, bringing her to another path that leads down toward flatter ground. With a single glance back across her shoulder Cerva takes off at a run. Her tail lifts and her muscles scream in exhaustion, but she doesn’t stop. She can still hear the troll’s roars and power as it slams the rocks in anger. Even when she slips on the snow, she rises to her feet and pushes herself onward until a strange rock formation greets her.
Only then can she bring herself to crumble in a heap. She tucks herself against the back of a large boulder, wanting only to rest. Her lungs are burning as she breathes and tries to recover. Her heart still patters, her adrenaline still coursing through her veins, but she takes a moment to rest and wonder where the screaming came from and how far away she is from it.
Cerva
Cerva nearly got her butt handed to her by a mountain troll and briefly met a mountain goat and leopard "friends" xD
1,356 words