The new world
Though even as you wish for a cooler climate, the world around you fades into an inky gray blur and you feel your padded feet sinking deeper into the ground. With a start and by the chilly wetness beneath you, you realize that you are standing in a snowbank.
By the time you raise your head back up to take in your surroundings, you realize that you are standing in a wooded forest, though more specifically, you are standing in a snowbank under gently falling snow, a fire crackling and popping to your left, and a brown burlap tent set up underneath a sturdy oak tree to your right. It looks like there are strips of meat set up on sticks leaning against the fire, and a quick check of the tent reveals a bulging backpack, a spare set of rather medieval-looking clothes next and a long, hewn walking bow with a quiver beside it.
A makeshift bedroll made out of a cloak and some hay under the cloak to act as bedding.
You glance inwards, crossing your arms across your chest as you feel the weight of your erect nipples poking your arms as you do so, the chill affecting your body as you stand bare in the snow.
In the distance a bird of some sort crows, amid a chorus of other chirrups and croaks that meet your ears which swivel, taking note of the sporadic input flooding your mind.
No one else seems to be around, and you wonder if that is a good or a bad thing.
Though a nagging spare though creeps into your mind as you stare at your bow and scent the aroma of cooking meat next to your fire ring, wondering what sort of dangerous world you have emerged into.
Written by PappaGobbastoppa on 16 June 2014
The end (for now)