Prolouge
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On white
Muma?
Papa?
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A thin child's voice floats through the chill air.
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Mama!
Papa!
Searching, shrill against the wind.
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MAMA!
PAPA!
No longer pleading. Screaming.
A few snowflakes float down. It won't snow hard as it is only autumn but a few flakes touch down on whiteness.
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The air is chill as she wakes up.
"Muma? Yasha?" She mumbles as she groggily looks around for them. She realises that they aren't there anymore and plops back down, hard, on the tree's roots. Her eyes blurr up as she starts to cry, blubbing. Warm tears rush down, trickling down to her chin. She tries to swallow the tears down but she just starts crying again, harder than before.
Her tears gradually start to slow and every now and again she hiccups, breaking between quiet sobs. Her cheeks begin dry in the slow breeze but her eyes remain wet, full of tears. She sucks on her thumb and sucks back down her tears. She sniffs and then coughs, balling up her fist to cover her mouth and then sticking her thumb back in. She sucks on it thoughtfully as she walks on through the trees. She sniffs again but can smell nothing but the plants and the birds.