Voices of Despair by ford_of_bruinen  

VI

I no longer remember warmth, the light of the trees is distant, more dream than memory. It is always dark here, always cold, endless miles of ice stretching in all directions. I pull her closer to my body, desperately sharing what heat remains. She is so quiet, so still. My little one.

I hate the slushing sound of half-frozen waves, the creaking, groaning sound of ice on ice, snapping as it breaks. Too many have been lost here, betrayed by kin.

Cracking echoes through me. Water and ice drag me down. My daughter… frozen fingers unbending. She needs to live.