The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

As dawn breaks over the tree house, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves, creating a serene melody in the forest. The first rays of sunlight pierce through the dense canopy, casting a golden hue on the gnarled tree branches. Birds start their morning songs, starting the awakening of nature.

In their temporary woodland abode, the group stirs from their slumber, greeted by the fresh scent of pine and the ambient sounds of the forest. Their makeshift beds of soft moss and sturdy leaves have served them well, providing a surprisingly comfortable bed.

Pine, approaches with a warm smile. "Good morning, travellers. I trust you slept well in my humble abode?"

The group rises, stretching and shaking off the remnants of sleep. On a fresh day, they gather their belongings, packing essentials into their bags. Pine provides them with carefully prepared provisions for their journey – dried fruits, and some flask of crystal-clear water sourced from a nearby spring.

Pine hands over the supplies. "May the forest guide your steps and may the spirits of the land protect you on your quest. The road ahead is fraught with challenges, so may your hearts be strong." With gratitude, the group bids farewell to Pine. He stands beneath his towering trees, a proud look on his face, and waves them off on their continuing journey.

The forest, though quiet in the wake of their departure, leaving behind the murder of crows as they squark and screech at them. The group, now laden with Pine's provisions, resumes their northward trek along the glistening shores of Long Lake.

The serene Long Lake stretched alongside them, its clear waters reflecting the crisp sunlight as tall trees, droop into the lake to drink. Beautiful small birds flitted between the branches, and squirrels chattered as they scampered through the treetops.

Near the water's edge, delicate dragonflies danced over the surface of ice, and schools of fish darted beneath the crystal-clear frozen water. Occasionally, a graceful deer or two would emerge from the dense foliage, cautiously sipping from the lake.

It was a tranquil scene, and yet for such a large lake that feeds an entire forest there, it seemed void and dry, for no young animals or such were around only the old remained.

As they continue their days northward, the lake melds into the dense forest before it gradually gives way to the calming sounds of a flowing river. Emerging from the tree line, they were greeted by the sight of a quaint human village on the opposite bank. The river, despite a layer of thin ice near the edges, still displayed signs of life. With the waters still able to freely flow fish can too with shining's of silver and greens from the river.

The village, cocooned in a blanket of snow lived with both the forest and river. The thatched roofs of cottages bore a layer of snow, and smoke from chimneys curled upward. The icy river flowed beside the village, offering sustenance to the community as they engaged in fishing.

Frozen vegetable gardens bordered some houses, dormant until the return of better times. Nets and fishing gear were neatly arranged near the river's edge, ready for use when the villagers ventured onto the frozen surface to extract their daily catch.

Footprints crisscrossed the snowy ground, as villagers moved between cottages, fishing spots, and communal spaces. The air carried the invigorating scent of crisp winter and the distant aroma of hearty stews simmering on stovetops.

The early morning air hung crisp and still as the group, standing on the riverbank, assessed the situation. The icy river flowed wide and seemingly insurmountable, presenting an obstacle in their path. However, as dawn painted the landscape in hues of pink and orange, the distant figures of the village fishermen emerged from the tranquil winter scenery.

The villagers, bundled in thick coats and hats, were in the midst of their daily ritual of retrieving nets cast into the river the previous night. The anticipation of discovering the night's catch animated their faces and in their joyous movements to their boats.

Brandon steps toward the river's edge. His voice carried over the gentle lapping of the water. "Good morning! Fine day for fishing, isn't it?" he called out, quickly grabbing the attention of the local fishermen.

A momentary pause hung in the air before one of the fishermen, a weathered man with a sturdy rowboat, responded with a hearty voice. "Aye, a good day indeed. What brings you to our river, strangers?"

Brandon smiles. "We're travellers heading north, and it seems we've hit a bit of a snag. Any chance we could hitch a ride to the other side? We'd be ever so grateful."

The fishermen exchanged amused glances before nodding in agreement. "Hop aboard, then! We'll take you across, and you can tell us about why travellers have come from Forest Children's lands."

As the fishermen skilfully guided their boats to the riverbank, the group gratefully climbed aboard. The creaking of the boats and the rhythmic splash of oars against the water accompanied the exchange of greetings between the group and the villagers.

One of the fishermen, a seasoned elder with a salt-and-pepper beard, squinted at the travellers with curiosity. "What brings ye from the land of the Forest Children?"

Brandon takes a moment to steady himself on the gently rocking boat. "We're on a journey heading north. Seeking something, you could say."

The fisherman's weathered face creased. "North, ye say? It's a harsh land, unforgiving. Strange things happen up there." His eyes flickered between everyone in the group.

Before he could pose another question, a fisherman from one of the boats interjected, his weathered face scrunching with curiosity. "If ye don't mind me asking, how did ye survive in the Forest Children's land? They are not welcoming to our kind of folk."

"We are friends with them in a way, well, at least some of their community. We met with one of our friends' acquaintances, and they let us pass and protected us," Brandon responded, sparking a ripple of conversation among the fishermen.

The salt-and-pepper fisherman cut in again, his voice gruff with concern. "I'd caution you from travelling any further north; it's getting increasingly dangerous up there. The few words we hear from other villages don't speak well of what is happening. Families disappear like thin air into the night. It's also cold, the kind that will freeze your balls off before you can cup them warm. But the worst is the wilds. Creatures, they say. Sounds, and growls in the dark. Like a hungry stomach echoing in the night."

"Oh, shut up, you bloody gossip teller!" shouted one of the fishermen from the boats, earning a round of laughs.

"Well, not much happens in these parts, and something needs to keep me interested. You're just jealous that your wife loves my tales so much. Haha," he retorted, making the other fisherman make, what seemed like a rude gesture, back at him, getting laughter from the group.

"What kind of creatures?" Jocelyn asks the slight afraid look in her eyes buried beneath her curiosity.

"Well, lass. They talk of a spider roaming the lands, feasting on those that it can grab." He says putting on his best 'scary' voice he can, before the rest of the fishermen burst out laughing.

"Oh, forget that cod washer." The salt and pepper fisherman says. "There is nothing that you need to be afraid of in these parts, it is perfectly safe around these parts. Monsters don't exist and they never will the Apadeva protects us." He says firm in his belief.

The boat continued its journey across the river, carrying the group toward the village on the other side. The fishermen, having satisfied their curiosity, headed back out into the river, pulling up their nets and assisting each other when the nets threatened to break. Complaints about the holes in the nets from fish flowed back into reach of the group.

And yet before they could pass through the village, the air suddenly stilted with a frantic shout.

"Sara's gone, along with Ronnel!"