02-07-2011, 02:42 PM
[html]Going to post with Farore first then you can post with Giddy James poo. WC 768
The snow had been coming down for days and for days Nayru had been stuck in the glass green house, only able to watch as the snow piled up higher and higher above her head. It was a strange situation indeed, to watch slowly as she was being buried alive and unable to do very much about it. On the first day when Nayru awoke the snow had been coming down, but there had been no reason to worry about it. It was winter after all, and snow was expected, and the girl had gone back to sleep to wait out the storm, planning to emerge and go about her day as soon as the flurry was over. Upon the second awakening Nayru was slowly growing alarmed. The snow had not ceased, as she had expected, and was actually coming down even heavier. Already outside the snow was piled high against her green house and when she went to push open the door she found that the door was frozen shut and barricaded with several feet of snow, heavy and wet and holding her in tight quite effectively.
Push as she might the door wouldn’t open and for a long time Nayru considered her situation. She would be warm and safe in the green house, but unable to reach the others. Locked up in the green house at the eastern end of the pack lands, the girl wondered how the others were faring. Were they all safe inside or had some gotten stuck out in the blizzard? Were any of them trapped in like she was herself? Was there anyone in desperate need of help? The thoughts came down heavy like the snow, blinding her as effectively as the nearly solid wall of frozen water prevented her from seeing more than a few inches out of all her hundreds of windows. No other thoughts except anxiety for the others could be brought into focus, even when she realized she could reach them and worrying was a waste of her energies.
The day dragged on and turned into another, though without the sunlight Nayru was losing track of time. Again and again she tried the door, for by the hour she was growing more convinced her help would be needed outside the green house, but try as she might the door didn’t budge. And when Nayru took a large rock to one of the glass panes she found the thick glass too strong to break. Escape was ever impossible, though the patch work girl tried again and again. That no one came to rescue her did not even cross her mind, for she felt a failure. She should be out there, helping them, and for the first time in her life the Lehrer felt truly useless.
Sleep found her again, for there was little else to do but worry and fret, and the white lady came in her dream. “You won’t be letting yourself out. They will have to dig you out.” Nayru woke with a start and the anxiety was too much to handle. Had the dream been a dream or had it truly been the white lady again? Nayru couldn’t tell the difference when her own mind was tormenting her or if it was the ghostly woman. Rushing at the door she stopped, for although the snow obscured her vision through the frosted and steamy glass, someone was out there. Someone was outside her door, digging at the snow. The white lady. Nayru pushed against the door, and then heard the sound of moaning glass above her too late.
A few of the glass panels on the roof, those right above the door were growing too weary from holding up snow that wouldn’t stop. They shifted in their place, grew hairline cracks that widened and snapped with the freezing air, and the large heavy glass came tumbling down. Right below them Nayru stood and it was too late to move. Upon colliding with her head the glass broke into even more pieces, heavy and sharp, tearing long and wide gashes in the skin of the two toned woman. The blood came quickly and from many different wounds. A large one in her head, along her cheek, her back where a large piece of glass had torn a gash many inches long. Yet Nayru was barely conscious for any of it, the heavy glass having hit her head first and she lay unconscious as the red liquid of her body spread and soaked into the piles of snow that had come down with the sections of her roof.
The snow had been coming down for days and for days Nayru had been stuck in the glass green house, only able to watch as the snow piled up higher and higher above her head. It was a strange situation indeed, to watch slowly as she was being buried alive and unable to do very much about it. On the first day when Nayru awoke the snow had been coming down, but there had been no reason to worry about it. It was winter after all, and snow was expected, and the girl had gone back to sleep to wait out the storm, planning to emerge and go about her day as soon as the flurry was over. Upon the second awakening Nayru was slowly growing alarmed. The snow had not ceased, as she had expected, and was actually coming down even heavier. Already outside the snow was piled high against her green house and when she went to push open the door she found that the door was frozen shut and barricaded with several feet of snow, heavy and wet and holding her in tight quite effectively.
Push as she might the door wouldn’t open and for a long time Nayru considered her situation. She would be warm and safe in the green house, but unable to reach the others. Locked up in the green house at the eastern end of the pack lands, the girl wondered how the others were faring. Were they all safe inside or had some gotten stuck out in the blizzard? Were any of them trapped in like she was herself? Was there anyone in desperate need of help? The thoughts came down heavy like the snow, blinding her as effectively as the nearly solid wall of frozen water prevented her from seeing more than a few inches out of all her hundreds of windows. No other thoughts except anxiety for the others could be brought into focus, even when she realized she could reach them and worrying was a waste of her energies.
The day dragged on and turned into another, though without the sunlight Nayru was losing track of time. Again and again she tried the door, for by the hour she was growing more convinced her help would be needed outside the green house, but try as she might the door didn’t budge. And when Nayru took a large rock to one of the glass panes she found the thick glass too strong to break. Escape was ever impossible, though the patch work girl tried again and again. That no one came to rescue her did not even cross her mind, for she felt a failure. She should be out there, helping them, and for the first time in her life the Lehrer felt truly useless.
Sleep found her again, for there was little else to do but worry and fret, and the white lady came in her dream. “You won’t be letting yourself out. They will have to dig you out.” Nayru woke with a start and the anxiety was too much to handle. Had the dream been a dream or had it truly been the white lady again? Nayru couldn’t tell the difference when her own mind was tormenting her or if it was the ghostly woman. Rushing at the door she stopped, for although the snow obscured her vision through the frosted and steamy glass, someone was out there. Someone was outside her door, digging at the snow. The white lady. Nayru pushed against the door, and then heard the sound of moaning glass above her too late.
A few of the glass panels on the roof, those right above the door were growing too weary from holding up snow that wouldn’t stop. They shifted in their place, grew hairline cracks that widened and snapped with the freezing air, and the large heavy glass came tumbling down. Right below them Nayru stood and it was too late to move. Upon colliding with her head the glass broke into even more pieces, heavy and sharp, tearing long and wide gashes in the skin of the two toned woman. The blood came quickly and from many different wounds. A large one in her head, along her cheek, her back where a large piece of glass had torn a gash many inches long. Yet Nayru was barely conscious for any of it, the heavy glass having hit her head first and she lay unconscious as the red liquid of her body spread and soaked into the piles of snow that had come down with the sections of her roof.