Chapter 11

Hello all. I know, I know, I normally update you all on the Von Trapp's movements and such, but I've been extremely busy with my life and such that I've found no time or any enthusiasm to continue writing this story. Not to worry though, everything is starting to die down and I shall be returning to my usual routine soon enough, but for now don't expect me to post every night/morning/afternoon (depending where you are).

Also. I have hit 1,000 views! May not seem like much for some of you, but for me it's a HUGE improvement. So, thanks everyone for taking the time to read and review. It really means a lot.

I was going to have to delete and reupload two of my chapters, but I decided not to do that. I mean, not all stories are perfect and mine certainly aren't. I don't enjoy writing for all the views, attention and freak over the tiniest detail which may or may not be wrong, I enjoy it because it's a distraction from everything and allows me to fill a few pages of white paper with all the emotions in my head to my heart's content.

Now, I know we're quite early into the story still, but I want honest opinions from all of you. Do you, or do you not, want a sequel? I just need "Yes! I really want a sequel," or "No, I don't think you should do a sequel," from people, no ideas on it… yet. Early days after all, like I pointed out. And if you don't want your review to be read by everyone viewing my story just message me privately with your answer.

Anyway, enough with me going on and on about stuff which has nothing to do with the Von Trapps (most of it anyway).

The path snaked its way around the side of the mountain with a sheer drop to the right. Artur carefully, yet confidently, walked carefully over thin path. I looked down. Worse idea I've ever come up with. Below me, far below me, was an ocean of leaves as sharp as thorns, their green daggers pointing menacingly up at me. I gulped a little, diverting my eyes to the open space in front of us. We hadn't been gone for long, and yet the village seemed miniature from our position up here.

"How much longer?" I grasped his hand, allowing him to pull onto the safe part of the mountain, sheltered by an overhanging and old oak.

He raised his right hand to his eyebrows and squinted upwards, stepping back a little so he could see more.

"Not much longer, I believe. It's hard to tell from here," he kicked one of his feet against the cold, solid stone, knocking some of the snow off.

Artur placed both hands on a small ledge sat just above his head and he pulled himself up onto it, grunting every so often from the effort. He then grabbed my hand, helping to pull me up as I did my best to climb up onto it as well.

A small path moulded from the ledge sloped upwards, and Artur began to walk up it, grasping the rocks for balance. Uncertain, I followed him, looking down at the ever shrinking forest below. For a few minutes we were silent, concentrating more on not falling rather than chatting, which was fine. The silence was comfortable, and I found enough comfort in the melodic tune of birds singing their tiny, little hearts out.

"We're here," Artur spread his arms out wide, a huge smile stretching from the corners of his face.

Patches of green were strewn out across the flat lands of the range, whilst the rest was an ominous gray and dead white. And yet, I found myself breathing rather shallowly, like ferns of frost were squeezing my sides in their desperate attempt to blacken my vision. Lakes were like tiny, black holes above the ground, still licking the sandy or grassy shores keeping their ever-growing bodies at bay. Even the snow glistened like an abundance of tiny, cut up diamonds scattered about their slushy mounds, waiting for the clouds to cover the sun once again so they could hide their shimmering souls.

"It's… It's beautiful," I breathed, taking it all in with nothing but my eyes.

"I came up here when those huge, metal things flew over our village and scared all of the young children. I wanted to know what they were," he replied innocently.

"Did… did they look a little bit like birds?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in a questioning way. Artur nodded slowly.

"Oh, I see. Well, they're called planes. Very popular around… well… everywhere. Except for this quaint little place of course," I explained, sitting down beside him.

"Are they dangerous?" he asked, clearly curious.

"I'm not actually sure. Father knows more about that than I do. He only tells the grown-up boys and girls, like Liesl, Friedrich and Louisa. Kurt, Marta, Gretl and I are all too young right now," I admitted.

"I think they're really cool, and I would love to fly around in one. Just for a day…" he sighed dreamily, looking up at the silent sky.

However, the afternoon had brought an early evening and night, with the setting sun dragging streaks of orange and yellow down the blue walls. Clouds began to gather in groups, dismissing the beauty the day had cast upon us. Grains of snow fell straight down from the clouds, not a breeze to blow them out of place. Artur had gotten up now, holding out his hand in a kind gesture to help me up. I smiled, taking it and stiffly pushing my legs up from the stone-cold floor…