Tracks made by naked feet, instead of paws. Confused by the fact that obviously some poor soul was walking around the woods barefoot, far from any other human settlement Crys started following the tracks. Further confused that the tracks were only on the surface, meaning the person with the bare feet had not sunk in.

At the entrance to a cave Crys sighed in displeasure, a cavern in the woods in the dead of winter could be home to a hibernating bear. As much as he hated to admit it, his brother was right that they sometimes awoke. From his pocket he drew a hunting knife, not much to fend off a bear, but if it was still affected from being awoken he stood a chance. “Hello?” he pulled down the fur in front of his face. “Is there anyone in there?” the smell of death came to his nose. Someone or so.ething had died recently in that cave, the intense smell of a freshly gutted lifeform was something he knew all too well.

Uncertain whether to investigate further he waited for his eyes to get used to the darkness before him after looking at bright white snow before. Suddenly two bright turquoise eyes stared him glowing in the darkness, startled he stumbled backwards, his snowshoes made him trip and fall back on his ass.

The eyes followed him to the light of day. A pale female face appeared as owner of the eyes. Her soft characteristics were framed by black hair, as she reached daylight Crys was under the impression that it had a green shine to it. As did her incredibly white skin, in his shock and the cold did it take him a few moments to realize she was naked, but smeared with blood, on her back she carried a bloody bearskin and fur. “What are you?” Crys’ expression was still twisted by fear. “My name is Gela.” her soft voice calmed Crys down a little, although still alarmed that she apparently had killed a bear with bare hands. “I am Crys.” he worked to get up again. “I’m cold.” she drew the bearskin tighter around herself. Not surprised that she was Crys had to get his act together not to freak out over the strange girl. “In my home there is food, and fire. It’ll warm you.” he stretched out his shaking hand, hoping she would believe it was shaking due to the cold, not fear of her.

“Fire? Fire, is evil!” her soft face transformed into a frightened mask of terror.

“It won’t harm you! It warms you!” Crys was losing more and more of his fear, as he was asking himself how anyone with no signs of burns could call fire evil. Doubting the young mans words Gela reluctantly reached for his hand in the thick glove.

Crys followed his own tracks, glad it had stopped snowing somewhen in the night. While marching he noticed how Gela didn’t sink into the snow, but didn’t try out himself whether the snow could support his weight. All the while Gela seemed absent minded, her gaze was distant, although piercing.