Beginning
This was not what I'd imagined when I'd wished to live in a fairy tale. The biting cold against my naked skin, snowy mountains I did not recognize. The utter silence left by the humming of electricity I was so used to. This wasn't Earth, not as I knew it. For the foreign feeling of wings on my back did not belong to my former reality.
I marveled at the smooth feathers; the deep brown color splattered with purest white. Marveled, yes, but at the same time I was afraid. For I was not used to wings, didn't know how to fly. And it was really cold here.
I took an uneven step, my feet plunging into the deep snow, cold slicing my skin. I had to find cover and fast. Because I'd die within an hour if I didn't. I started walking towards nearby trees, the forest hopefully offering some kind of cover from the wind.
The wings were heavier than I had imagined, my back already aching for trying to keep them from trailing in the snow, trying to use them to shelter myself.
Under the canopy of trees, the glowing of snow dimmed slightly as I marched forward. This whole place seemed uninhabited, but it couldn't be. There had to be someone. It would be a sad fairy tale indeed, if I died of cold upon arriving.
Evergreen filled the forest, few animal trails showing in the snow. The thought of acquiring food crossed my head but that would come later. After I wasn't quite so cold and after my teeth stopped clattering, threatening to bite my tongue.
Maybe I should have looked for a cave instead, but it would offer little warmth. Setting up a fire would be a good idea, but my knowledge of making any came from books and I doubted I'd get anything to burn even if I did have matches with me.
Desperation crept upon me. I had no survival skills for wilderness. I was a bookworm college student, whose greatest ability was reading speed. And books would not help me here. Except be a good kindling, if there were any in this forest.
My feet going numb, I opted for building a cover of some sort. I chose an evergreen with its lowest branches high enough for me to crouch under, and started digging the snow away, only few inches having piled under the thick branches. Making a quick work, I covered the frozen earth with fallen branches and started to look for something to build the walls from. Nothing big enough on the ground, so I'd have to cut some branches straight from trees.
It took a while to find one with slender enough branches for me to even think ripping down with my bare hands. And still the wood tore my frozen fingers, before the loud crack sounded and I fell on my bottom. Luckily not crushing either of my wings in the process.
I would not have cover in time.
That didn't stop me from trying. From ruining my hands completely until they stung and bled, until feeling vanished from them. Until I couldn't bring myself to move anymore, even if stopping was most lethal thing one could do in cold, and huddled into my crappy cover, folding the pretty wings around me.
I had never felt such cold, such uselessness. I wanted to cry, but wet cheeks would only freeze me faster. I didn't know which was worse, to die quickly or slowly submit to the cold.
At first, I thought the sound was my imagination. The boom which grew closer and fast. Until a winged figure appeared not twenty feet from where I had ripped the trees. I tried to make a sound with no success, but the figure tracked me in a manner of seconds. Steps surprisingly silent on the mattress of snow, that figure closed in and crouched before me, a knife in hand.
I was surprised of the handsome face, even with all the books I've read. I should have been prepared for handsome warriors. But reading didn't do them justice. I felt stupid for admiring his looks this close to death, and maybe he agreed, for he burrowed his brows.
"Quien eres?" He said and I blanched. What did that mean? Judging by the tone and situation it was probably inquiry of my name. Or why I was here. But I could only open my mouth slightly, lips too frozen to answer him.