Morning had not yet disturbed the frozen darkness. Though dawn dripped over the mountains' edge, leaving tiny scintillating sparks on the white canopy of snow, the air remained heavy with cold. In the silence of night, the blanket shifted, and as a bright body of white emerged from the powder-covered rock, snow dust brushed off its width and dissolved in the iced snow below. A pair of long, clawed membranes – wings – folded up at an angle out of the newly erased cover, stretched, and then beat downward, the white body disappearing in a flash of movement and leaving a layer of untouched ice where it previously had been.
That wingbeat had summoned dawn, and with a gust to break the deathly stillness, warmly colored light poured over the mountain's point like fire. The soft, sudden light reflected blindingly off the snow in a burst of orange, yellow and pink, and then once again everything was calm, exposed and warming to the daily ritual of dawn.
A young girl, seemingly not yet of adult age, stood at a precipice of ice and rock as if she was orchestrating it all, her feet clutching the edge with the dexterous skill of a reptile. She fearlessly, comfortably faced the open edge as the dropoff gave way to a smooth descending slope, and then, almost too far to see for human eyes, gentle lowlands in which a village, dominated by a relatively impressive castle, was cradled in the unforgiving environment of the mountain range.
The girl paused for a moment more, the colors of dawn flowing into her hair and lithe body. Nothing had yet moved in the distant town. Her sweeping gaze halted at the sight of something sparkling below, off to the side and just within her view, and with a movement almost like an instinctive reaction, she skittered toward it, her toes seeking out holds on the slope to cling to protection from a fatal fall down the icy cliff.
She stopped in the shadow of the mountain's peak, within a step of the attractively shining object. Oblivious to the unforgiving cold, she knelt down, trusting her bare knees in the snow, and reached for the object, sifting for it and finally dropping it into the cup of her left hand. She flinched at the hard impact, but then returned to staring at the round object. Its color was unlike that of the snow, and the tepid dawn light gave it a luminous golden appearance. She had seen humans handle these frequently, but she figured they were so small that they were often accidentally dropped.
Around it, the loose snow had been disturbed, and the girl's blue eyes trailed down the clumsily-made path of snow. It couldn't have been broken the day before: it would have been covered by the overnight dusting of snow. Like that of an alarmed prey animal, the girl's heart began to pound, and just before scurrying up the slope to a safe vantage point, she slipped the coin into a pocket secured onto the white garment around her hips.
Scaling the slope to a higher place and following the fresh trail was relatively simple. Within a few minutes the girl could hear muffled sounds, and the heavy footsteps were growing newer on the path. By their shape and size, the prints were probably from one of the horses that the people in the village used for transportation. Just to be safe, the girl ascended a bit more so that she was less visible from the flat trail below and started watching for movement. She had followed the trail accurately: a human was shifting around and mumbling to himself on the level below, with the horse held a pace or two behind him. The girl watched for a moment, noting his troubled voice and how he glanced around, searching for something nearby. The horse was decorated, and the long-haired man wore equally flamboyant clothing. The girl narrowed her eyes, thinking… Usually only people in less expensive clothing would come through this pass. What would bring one of the more wealthy people here? It definitely wasn't a venture of trade: this was not one of those stocky horses that traveled a long way pulling and carrying things. Was there some sort of threat in the village that would drive its people to the mountain? The girl only watched for a moment more. If her land and home were vulnerable to some evil force, she would have to take care of it. Her bare feet skidded on the snow for only an instant, and then she took off around the path and down the slope of the mountain – still out of sight of the human – toward the waking village at the mountain's base.
She had to make the trip quick to stay ahead of the man, but she had two advantages: the icy, rough terrain would slow down any horse trying to traverse it, and the tough trees that grew near the lower part of the mountain would hide her from view. Though she might not be able to blend in as well once she reached the village, she would deal with that when it happened. Right now she had to consider what might bring one of the richer men out, and admittedly, she was curious about the shiny object, too. Perhaps she could find more of those.
The terrain shifted to warmer soil and plants beneath her sensitive feet, but she didn't slow down in her flight until she had crossed the vast plain and reached the border of the village.
Surprisingly, the guard at the entrance was not intense, and when the men in armor saw that she couldn't possibly be carrying anything in her empty hands and light clothing, she passed under a decorative stone arch into a shining crowd of people and small buildings. This was not like other places, where the poorer citizens dwelled in the sprawl of the edge of the village. With the prosperous, clean soil, the cool air and the protection from the mountain, the organized city reached up to its borders and touched them lightly. The fluid crowd of people did not seem to notice when the girl merged into them. Whenever she could catch a glimpse through a gap in the crowd, the girl gazed at the shops that had been erected in a rush to take advantage of the last of the warm weather. She drifted toward one side where the early-waking people did not walk as closely and slowed in her exploration, but none of the craft from the varied shops caught her attention. The people on the other side of the shops seemed to stare at her, but the girl's awareness of their presence slowly faded as the bright colors of the strange village drew her in.