Sorry I hadn't updated for quite sometime. I had spent the days lazing around, only occasionally going on fanfiction to write. Instead, I was trying to soothe out all those writing mistakes (as you all know, I am terrible with grammar) and trying to proofread the story. It took a while, but at the end, I finished it. This is the second author's note, and I'm wondering if this is actually a good idea to write random things to my readers.
So here goes a new chapter, and tada! Enjoy it.
All the bear felt was unbelievable pain. Searing pain, burning through its midriff, yet at the same time it was so cold... It knew that it was dying, even if he doesn't, other predators would have easily kill him in its weaken state. In a flash of light and heat and frost, its seemingly helpless prey had somehow wounded it grievously in a single strike. Though the frozen fire itself was gone, the pain remains, burning and blasting a hole through its stomach, where blood sloshed out in icy waves.
The forest was still around it, all the birds and snakes had fell silent, wary of the fallen beast. Snow still continues to fall, though the amount of crimson on the ground refused to be covered. Predators started to home in from afar, entranced by the new, strange smell of blood. Yes, the bear had never bled before.
With all its remaining force, it struggled to stand up. Failing, it fell back on to the ground with a sickening thud. It tried to crawl away, attempting to find relief in the snow, only to find out that it had all melted, while heading back for its den.
Oh no. It refuses to die like this. Oh no. Not like this.
After running for the stables, she found out in despair that the horse were gone, taken by the ranger and Anna. Apparently, they hadn't return yet.
So instead, in a spark of ingenuity, Elsa made a snow horse, big, white and powerful, along with its saddle and reins. For a second, Elsa had pondered upon just how useful ice magic is, how practical. Then she soon swiftly forgot the thought as she remembered what her purpose to the stable was.
Through the town she rode, ignoring the gasp of amazement and alarm from the citizens, soldiers and nobles alike. Seeing the queen riding alone through on a white horse with haste wasn't something you see everyday, causing them to wonder wildly what could have caused the queen to be in such a hurry, and going there herself personally.
It somewhat reminded them of her Runaway Incident, and that wasn't a pleasant thought. And when she rode off, out of the town and back into the North Forest, they might as well have a heart attack.
In the distance, she could see a small pillar of smoke rising, as if someone had set a campfire. Or as if lighting struck, wouldn't be surprised, eyeing the heavy clouds that float above.
Not too long ago, just before she went to bed, Robert had asked her to try putting a tracking charm on him, just for the sake of doing some magic and learning. Elsa had countered that her magic is frost, not wild life tracking expert.
Robert replied with a smirk, saying yet again that magic is an open ended subject. If all else fails, she could always send a snow bird to tail him. But instead, thumbed his forhead with her... Thumb, leaving a swirly snow-white mark, though hidden under the hairline.
That, was before she discovered that she was unable to remove it.
For a while, she had panicked, trying to rub it off vigorously, resulting Robert to have an extreme head ache and raw skin. After all that, the white mark was still there.
The second reason Elsa had panicked was because she felt somewhat... Different. She couldn't pinpoint the feeling, yet she knew something changed. The feeling of seeing something in the background suddenly disappearing, but unable to remember what had disappeared. She was afraid that she had somehow permanently damaged herself, or Robert. The feeling of no return always scares her.
It took Robert nearly fifteen minutes to calm her down, and in her panic she almost froze the corridor, "Elsa, stop worrying that much. I'm fine! Chill out! ( Pun time ) Gee yes, I'm perfectly alright. I am not going albino or anything like freezing! Shhhhhh..."
Just right now, Elsa had realised just how lucky they are, one in a million chance of placing a tracking spell on Robert before she went to bed. She wondered if he had somehow predicted the future, but she quickly dismissed the ludicrous idea.
When one revelation happens, others usually follow close behind. Elsa now knew why she had bee so jittery this afternoon, or that in her sleep she had dreamed of a frozen forest. The tracking spell did more than just tracking. It was like a live feed of Roberts condition, horror, causation, fatal moments... She felt it. Like she was dying inside her soul, her heart seemed to be beating slower and heavier, vertigo clouding her mind. Yet it did not affect her real body, still balanced, still thinking, still riding.
And suddenly, that feeling disappeared.
Gods. Don't tell me...
He followed the Village Elder'a hobbling form as they walked through the wheat fields, the plants still growing in the dirt and water. Sven was not allowed to tag along, and was refrained in the stables, complaining loudly with a few choice reindeer phrases.
Kristoff doesn't know what to expect, or to say, who to expect. Judging by the old man's skill with a walking stick and his deceptive haggard look, Kristoff really doesn't know what to make of people anymore.
So, when Kristoff was greeted (relatively) by a scowling (why is everyone angry at him for no reason at all?) farmer, middle aged yet full-whited on the hairs, dressed in baggy rough-spun clothes that failed to hide his absolutely rippling muscles, standing outside a hut that seemed to have miraculously appeared out of nowhere, he had no idea how to proceed.
The farmer scowled, and frankly Kristoff was surprised how he can drag the corners of his lips even lower. The farmer growled, "What's the meaning of this, Elder?"
The Village Elder snorted, "A suitable apprentice."
The farmer narrowed his eyes on Kristoff, who fought to not squirm and shy away under the gaze. Seriously, what's wrong with all these people? They all act like as if he is going to rob and murder them in their beds.
Finally after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the farmer moved his gaze back to the Village Elder, scowled, "This is not what I asked for. Not this boy, at any rate."
The Village Elder glared straight back into those eyes and said quietly, "We have to talk, inside."
The farmers eyes widened in surprise for a fraction of a second, but it quickly pushed back together into a frown, said, "Get in."
Following the farmer, the Village Elder turned around and said to Kristoff with a scowl, "You, stay outside," before slamming the door in his face. Wow. Polite. And even more scowls too. To doors slams in the face in a single day, by the same person. Very friendly.
From outside the door, Kristoff can hear vague conversations, but since they were whispering and was muffled through the door, it was quite impossible to even catch a single word.
He tried going for the windows, and a flying sack of potatoes almost dislocated his head for him.
Kristoff had smartly stayed clear of the hut since then.
Why, must it be ducks?
Why, on earth is she eating ducks?
But she is just so hungry... And the smell too alluring...
Cliffhangers Cliffhangers Cliffhangerssssssss!