Young Writers Society

James, with his hands up to the fire, was slowly regaining the feeling in his fingers - altogether feeling that familiar burning sensation when your body goes from very cold to warm very fast.

"A myth that's apparently real," James muttered.

"What's the myth?" she murmurs.

"The bear from the story," he grumbled.

"White bear spirit..."

"That does seem a suitable thing to call it, yes," James mumbled.

"Is--is that normal?" stuttered Tavis, his teeth still chattering from the chill.

His breath came fast and shallow. Adrenaline rushed through him and his heart seemed to threaten to burst out of his chest. Words flitted through his mind, never staying for long as he stumbled through the snow. No, please . . . Umma . . . Appa . . .

He clutched at the scarf around his neck for dear life as he struggled through the thick white snow. He could barely see through the blizzard. Everything was dark, cold, cold, cold. He didn't know where he was running, only that he had to escape, snow is bad snow is bad snow is bad--

He stumbled and fell, sinking in. He clutched at his head and screamed, though the cry was lost in the shrieking gusts.

At that moment, there was a quiet sound of heavy footsteps through the snow. He glanced up and caught sight of a large, white bear with strange, piercing eyes. It gave him a single, knowing look, then continued on its way.

The sight of the creature shook him enough out of his irrational fear. When his gaze returned to his path, suddenly it was as though the icy wind was not as heavy. There was a cave many yards away. Relief coursed through him and he fought his way toward it single-mindedly, ignoring everything around him.

At last, he reached the mouth of the cave. He could see a fire inside. Forget dangers, all he cared was escaping from the snow and getting warm. He entered the dim space and stopped short at the sight of three rough-looking people in strange clothing.

He tried to speak but his voice, after being in the cold for so long, failed him. He could only stare at them as he shivered in his wet clothes and lifted a hand in a cautious wave.

“Normal is relative. But for most people, n-“ James startrd to answer, but his eyes were drawn to the shivering man entered the moutrh of the cave. “No...” James finished quietly, though delayed, as he stared at the spectacle that was the wet, freezing, man.

”Dragons above,” he muttered, as he got up, abandoning his blanket and rushing over to the fellow. At this point, he was just collecting lost souls.

“Come by the fire,” he instructed, patting the man’s back. “And unless you want to freeze, you need to get rid of as many of these soaked layers as possible. Until you warm up, and they dry off.”

He could barely nod his head as the man pulled him to the fire. He'd known himself that he should remove some layers, but it was nice to see someone cared. His stiff fingers fumbled with his overcoat, but he didn't remove his scarf.

--
"Are you all right?" asked Tavis as the man - who seemed only a boy - came to stand by the fire.

The guy turned slightly to meet his eyes. He opened his mouth, but only the faintest whisper came out. "Yes."

Tasha stands, making sure her dagger is in reach before handing the freezing newcomer her cloak - she's not wet, she'll be fine without it.

James helped the stranger with his coat, and laid it on the ground by the fire to dry. He grabbed the blanket that Tasha and him were sharing, and, with the storm no longer raging, also offered it to the freezing fellow.

“Your scarf?” he asked, staring at the wet garment still clinging to his neck, assuming the guy would want to get rid of it as well.

He shook his head, regaining a bit of vigor, and clutched at the scarf protectively. "I'll keep it on, thanks." He merely unwound the long garment but left it hanging around his neck.

James hesitated for a moment, wanting to urge the boy to not be foolish by keeping the wet garment on him. He didn't want him to die on his watch, but he decided against it, if only for a short time, while he warmed up by the fire. James took Tasha's coat, again holding it out to the fellow.

"Take it," he instructed.

"Thank you." He draped it about his shoulders tightly and sat by the fire. He stared at the flames as he collected his thoughts.

James nodded, taking his seat again by the fire. He observed the new stranger in silence for a moment before speaking. "You've got a name?"