The wind was whipping through the hallows of the forest making the low hanging branches of the old tress tap and scrape across the roof of the cottage. The windows rattled and the house sighed loudly from the Gail, which made being alone all the more frightening. It was an older cottage drafty but quaint, sporting a large rounded fireplace made of stones and mud. The space was open and almost seemed round, the way things were arranged.
The sun had to have set at least an hour or more ago and her mother still had not returned. Her mother she though, with her bright red ringlets and her blue dress cloak draped across her shoulders, looked just like a queen from a drawing in a child's book.
She and her mother had many similar features, such as their brown doe's eyes; pale skin, and softly rounded face.
Her father used to tell her that they looked just alike, but that "Mina had hair spun of golden sunshine..."
Her memory's of him were few but vivid, and comforted her as the moon rose higher into the night.
She looked at her reflection in the window and she huddled near the dim glow of the hearth...It had been burning for two days but she was now out of firewood and the heat was rushing out from the drafty cottage through its walls.
Nearly midnight, and she was still huddled near the embers wrapped in a large wool blanket.
Mina was nodding off when she heard a loud thump against the large oak door. She moved as quietly as she could toward the sound half shaking from cold and half from fear. Feeling her way around in the black she finally found her way to a candle that had fallen off the table in the middle of the room.
Carefully she took it and made her way back to the stone fireplace where she then pressed the wick against one of the glowing embers.
The candle wick ignited but swayed and flickered in the oppressive draft.
It would have been a sight for sore eyes other than the moment it light up there was a loud rustling noise at the door and another even louder thump.
Her tiny body frozen with fear as the thought of bandits and thieves; kidnappers and murderers played off her fragile mind. In her head her mother was struggling against just that and they were now coming for her.
 Jaguar spirit · Tue Feb 19, 2013 @ 04:35am · 0 Comments |
