"We never found a sign of Noatak. We thought he perished in that storm..."


The Tale of Noatak

White. That's all he could see. The snow storm hadn't let up since he started running and gave no sign of doing so anytime soon.

It had been a harsh two or so days for Noatak. Two days of aimless wandering in the freezing cold. His cheeks were bright red, cold and irritated by the ice hitting him in the face. He could barely feel anything anymore. He had not been prepared for being out in the cold this long.

'Where am I going?' He thought. Every direction looked the same in this weather. He had long lost his sense of what was north or south, east or west. It was all a guessing game now. He was hoping he'd find some shelter.

The snow was whipping his extremities hard. His boots were almost soaked through leaving his feet numb, almost with a hot, burning sensation. His nose was running. Any drippings freezing almost instantly on his face.

Everything hurt, he thought. He couldn't go on much longer. The thought of returning home- his warm, safe home- entered his mind although he didn't know how 'safe' or 'warm' it would be now.. And the possibilities of finding his home, or at least finding it before he froze to death, was slim to none. It wasn't an option.

he didn't want to return to his village though. Even if that meant having to wander for a new home until he couldn't walk anymore. he didn't want to return. Not after what happened.

His father was a monster. Making him fight against his younger brother. Using them as tools of revenge. As far as he knew, his father never really loved him.

Noatak forced back tears, only letting a small, choking cough to come out.

"You are being weak, Noatak!" He cursed himself, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "He was manipulating you. Using you! You are better than him." The tears got caught in his throat again and he forcefully tried to make them go back down. He was being a baby.

The winds continued to whip his face. Noatak pulled his jacket closer with no success at becoming warmer. His clothes were soaked and his entire body was numb.

A tiny cry escaped from his mouth without him realizing it. Then another, and another, until he was taking gasps of breath in between broken cries.

"I'm s-so-oh-oh co-oh-old-d-d." He said in a hushed voice to himself. His teeth chattered and he shook all over. Tears were freezing to his face as they streamed down, and he could taste the salt of his blood on his cracked lips.

Finally his legs gave out, and a whimper died on his lips. Noatak crumpled to the ground, and he could not get up. He wailed out with what strength he had left. He was praying to who ever might have been looking out for him that someone would hear him. The thought was a bit ridiculous though. The wind was so strong. he was sure that his cries would just be blown away and carried somewhere further into the storm.

Noatak became silent except for the occasional muffled cry. All he could hear was the sound of his shallow breaths. He stopped moving. He was to tired to. He just laid there as the snow got caught in his hair and eye lashes. He closed his eyes.

His thoughts slowly made their way in, one by one.

I hope Tarrlok is okay. I'm glad he didn't come...

I'm so tired.. I just want to sleep...

sleep.

I don't feel so cold anymore..

And then, they all stopped.


R&R

-Bea