Artica

Freezing. Cold. Inside.

Was she supposed to feel cold? Artica closed her eyes and detected the temperature. Nope. Not cold. At all.

Then why was she feeling cold?

Frozen heart?

Lie.

Just feeling things.

Probably.

Maybe.

Who knows, anyways. After all, she was lost in this forest. This was serious. Not why-in-the-world-is-Artica-feeling-cold.

Walking. Is. Tiring.

Artica smiled at that. With a flick of her wrist, the words appeared in the air in ice.

Walking. Is. Tiring.

She liked three words. Separated by periods. Three. Her lucky number.

Artica thought a moment. She created a gust of wind. Pushing herself more towards the center of the woods.

Mist. Mist surrounded her. Artica could see nothing. She stood there for a few moments. Breathing in the air. Suddenly, Artica saw something moving in front. A figure. Of a girl. She was wandering. Lost. The same look in her eyes. Just like Artica.

Artica moved her eyes closer, examining the girl. She seemed dark. As though she was darkness herself. As though she brought darkness with her. But the look in her eyes reached out to Artica.

"What's the matter?" Artica asked. She knew she couldn't trust this girl. But she was just curious. Curious.

The girl turned around, startled, and unsheathed her dagger. Her dagger, as well, seemed to be made of darkness.

She opened her mouth and held her dagger up, her arms quivering.

"Who are you? What are you?"