"NO! She is our only hope to close the rifts!" Cullen yelled over the agitated crowd of women. He sometimes thought that an angry woman was just as dangerous as an agitated mage, and he currently had three angry women on his hands. "Do you truly believe she is chosen? Do you trust in the Maker's plan? Then send a search party."
The women calmed down enough to think of the present rather than the future. They nodded, slowly, one by one.
Grimly satisfied, Cullen nodded curtly. What he had said, he meant. She really was the only hope they had.
The frigid air whipped through his curly blonde hair as he sunk a path into the snow to find the men he believed would find success in their assigned missions. Once he set them to their tasks, he rounded up the women.
"I'm going to search too. If you want to join me, feel free," he told them. He headed out before any of them could object. To his surprise, they chased after him, but he had no patience to ask why and get an indirect answer.
They headed toward one of the small openings that led to where Haven used to be. The avalanche had covered everything that was in the way of its path. He hoped it hadn't buried her too.
The snow got deeper as he climbed up the hill that led back to where she would be coming from.
There. Movement in the swirls of snow. Was it - Could it be? Could he dare to hope? Armor reflected the dim light and the wearer struggled weakly through the deep snow. Was that her? Red hair darted out from under the helmet. The same shade as the sunset they shared. It was her.
"There! It's her!" He shouted as she collapsed to her knees. Suddenly, the snow was no longer an impediment. She was safe, but she was weak. He picked up her limp body. She was so cold. He pulled off the fur he wore about his shoulders and wrapped it around her, fur in.
"Stay with me," he whispered in her ear as he picked her up again. "Just a little bit longer."