Instincts - all audiences

Hello friends.

This post is based on one of the prompts given by Writer's Weekly for one of their previous 24-hour writing contests. I saw the link to that posted on my Facebook wall the other day and decided to join in. The friend who posted it is going to share the prompts for the other contests she participated in, and I'll see if I can come up with something that could've been submitted.

This is the first one.
I hope you'll enjoy the read.

Prompt:

Blue ice stretched to the horizon, fading into the blinding rays of another waning winter sun. She shivered violently as the shifting mass groaned under her feet. She instinctively glanced down, looking for cracks under the transparent sheen. Suddenly, she tensed and dropped to her knees. Desperately clawing at the ice, she screamed...

Word count: Stories for today's topic must not exceed 850 words.

  

Instincts.

Blue ice stretched to the horizon, fading into the blinding rays of another waning winter sun. She shivered violently as the shifting mass groaned under her feet. She instinctively glanced down, looking for cracks under the transparent sheen. Suddenly, she tensed and dropped to her knees. Desperately clawing at the ice, she screamed.

Her voice carried over the white plains, unstopped and unhindered by nature's obstacles. It was a heartbreaking, heart wrenching scream, cutting through bone and marrow. Well, it would if it encountered those on its path, but it didn't. There was no echo, nothing to bounce the sound of her voice back at her. There was nothing. No one. No one who could help her. No one who could save her. If the ice beneath her feet broke, she would fall to her doom in the icy waters below, a certain and near-sudden death awaiting her. A horrible death too, or so she had been told by the elders.

If only the elders could be there now. If only they were with her, to help and guide, to protect and comfort. But they were nowhere to be seen. She was very much left to her own device and that scared her more than what she saw before her eyes. No one would help, for no one was near.

The ice suddenly cracked, making her jump and scream in surprise, the sound of her voice now completely different. Her surprise turned to anguish as the crack shot outward, zigzagging away from its point of origin. She jumped back, away from the danger, away from the looming threat of an unwanted swim. She realized with a pang she herself had caused the crack in her fear and surprise, clawing at the shiny surface the way she had. She stepped back even more, slowly now, carefully. Hopefully, the ice would hold.

Her feet slipped somewhat and she looked down, finding the ice wet beneath her feet. In shock, she raised her eyes and scanned the area immediately around her. More cracks were appearing, the jagged lines crisscrossing in a diabolical pattern. She jumped a first, trying to stay light on her feet. Then, she jumped another. This time, she slipped and nearly fell. An almost unnatural reflex kept her from going flat on her belly on the slippery ice and she steadied herself before moving on. The ice kept moaning as she moved on, complaining about the weight it had to carry, disapproving of her constant movements.

She had to get away from the edge as fast as she could, find thicker ice and more stable ground under her feet, preferably with a thick layer of snow. It would absorb the energy, hers as well as the ice’s and she wouldn't see the cracks any longer. It was never smart to tread blindly, but she preferred to be blind rather than scared. The cracked ice frightened her, so she preferred not to know it was there. Even if the ice gave way, she wouldn't see it coming. She wouldn't have time to anticipate and her fear would have no chance to paralyze her. And so she moved on as quickly as she could and dared on the slippery, treacherous surface, jumping more cracks to avoid stepping on them. Thankfully, her feet were light and her progression swift, leaving no opportunity for the breaking ice to swallow her whole.

She did not want to die frozen.

Her foot sank away in the soft snow and she breathed a sigh of relief, then quickly joined her other. The snow gave her a feeling of safety, of serenity. Of security. She ran more quickly now, the snow a welcome cushion beneath her feet, hiding the dangers and allowing for much better grip. Her feet were still light, kicking up puffs of snow as she ran, feeling the cushion thicken and the safety grow. When she reached the top of a small incline, she knew she was safe.

Finally.

Looking back, she saw large chunks of ice drifting away on the waves, driven by the currents.

She shivered again, thinking she could have been trapped on one of them had she not taken to a run so quickly.

One last look at the treacherous ice below, then she turned her nose to the wind and started down the other side, taking to a trot to cover the rest of the distance separating her from the camp.

She was greeted with enthusiasm, as always.

They were always happy to see her return.

She stopped, surrounded by those she loved most, and looked around the group, seeing admiration and concern in their eyes. She smiled and shook the snow off, then she threw her head back and howled at the moon, her cry echoed by every single member of her group.