Word Count: 1669
Winter in the Kawani Lands would generally be a time of joy. Creatures of every sort were known to celebrate holidays and rejoice in winter's new changes. But something was amiss where a large horned bear-like creature padded. An air of strange bloodlust hung about like cobwebs, heat exuding from steam that sizzled from the pores in the earth. A humming noise suffused the cavern where Yrsa paced. A storm had fallen upon her realm, covering it in ice and deep snow. And strangely, the Queen felt trapped by it.
"What have I done to bring the wrath of Olfattir upon me?" Yrsa grumbled to herself as she wandered through the private chamber that adjoined her Priestess sister and leads to the annex of the rest of her family's dwellings - or those who decided to dwell close to their Queen. It had begun to snow earlier that day, a light dusting at first, just the softest of fluff from the dim skies. Now it seemed the whole valley leading up to the caverns of Hjordheim, and every inch of the land beyond was covered in it - an endless blanket of pearly white. And with the snow had come an unnaturally frigid cold.
In most cases, her jarls would have been able to take care of it, allowing her to continue her usual passionate merry-making and scheming of springtime raids to the valley below. However, as bad luck would have it, the snow made it difficult for many to leave their homes and lands to cater to her suffering. Yrsa was no stranger to winter; it was a regular occurrence after all. This winter, however, was colder than any other she had yet experienced, and so she had been caught unprepared when the blizzard had descended upon them.
For a moment, she wondered if having a smaller home would have made it less eventful when dealing with the deep snowstorms that hit in the wintertime. But the thought vanished as Yrsa padded her way through her room to a large hearth that lay in the middle of the round cavern. This central room had veins of tiny holes that let warmth travel through the rooms, keeping most of the frigid chill away. The Queen growled in frustration as she saw that it had been allowed to dwindle to embers. It must've been losing its heat for some time, as there was a dusting of snowflakes on top of the ashes. "Ah... Perhaps my family is trying to freeze our paws to the rock", she grumbled.
With a sigh, she allowed her gaze to wander the cavern, searching for some dry firewood but found none. Growling, Yrsa reined in her urge to shout for a servant, but her impatience won over her desire to be waited on. With digging steps, she made her way towards the small side door, kicking a rogue piece of wood aside. Frustration was evident in her movement as she pulled aside the curtain and made her way to the slight accumulation of firewood that had been set to the side to keep the hearth lit. She took a bundle by its twine in her teeth and turned to pad her way back inside. As she turned, she heard the finality of the door's lock click back into its place in the shallow opening.
"You have got to be kidding me," she mumbled between her teeth. At that moment, she began to recall overhearing several of the servants grumping to each other about the tricky door that always seemed to close itself and how they had to keep a stopper to prop it open since they had no way to open it again from the outside. She felt her blood pressure rise as she realized the small piece of detritus she had kicked was the doorstop. Swearing under her breath, she began to make her way through the ever-deepening snowfall, around to the back entrance that led to the kitchens. She knew that door was always kept unlocked since it was across from the outbuilding where her servants kept their quarters. Trudging through, she felt herself begin to shiver involuntarily. The wind blasted her then, making the rings in her wings so cold it felt as if they were burning her. It was agony, but it wasn't as if she could turn the storm off as much as she wished she could.
It took several minutes, but she eventually made her way to the back of the keep, where the kitchens were. As she rounded the corner, she saw the light through the windows of the small building and heard raucous laughter and cheers. Yrsa stopped then, agitation and curiosity mixing within her. Curiosity won out as she crept toward the window, carefully peeking over the snow that had built up on the sill. There was a fire lit in the hearth, and food spread before it, while the group gathered there played a game of some sort, moving about and making ridiculous faces. She watched for a few minutes, irritated that they would waste their time with such frivolities. She backed away from the window with a snort of derision. How ludicrous, she thought.
She made her way to the covered porch-like entry to the kitchens, stomping the snow off her paws and shaking it from her body. If she tracked it into the kitchens, someone would inevitably slip in the resulting puddle, and then she'd be down a lackey. She couldn't afford to have any of them injured; she needed all the help she could get in her play to dominate the Kawani Lands. While some might mistake her actions for some type of kindness, it was really just practicality on her part. An injured servant was useless, and she did not tolerate uselessness.
Yrsa pushed against the door, only to realize it was stuck fast. She pulled back, staring at the door, realizing that it was frozen shut. Swearing again, she huffed, her breath, one big cloud of steam enveloping her head. This snow business was much more trouble than she'd initially thought. She turned around to face the servant's quarters, debating whether she should go in and stay the rest of the night there. Surely the morning sun would melt the ice that kept the door secured, so she would only have to tolerate their company for this one night. Besides, there was one more door worth trying; the front doors.
The cord of wood still dangling from her mouth, Yrsa began slogging through the snow again, around to the front of the keep. It took longer than she would have liked, as the snow was now past her ankles, almost to her knees. About halfway around, she had found a patch of ice and slipped, legs ultimately going out from under her. As she lay on the walkway, dazed and limp, she resolved to take over a salt mine. This snowy experience was definitely going to ensure she would be better prepared in the future. With a groan, she rolled over and hoisted herself back onto her feet. Taking more care, she finally made her way to the front door...only to realize she didn't have the wood.
With a cry of anguish, Yrsa stomped back around to where she'd slipped, angrily kicking snow around, only caring to exercise her rage. In her recklessness, she struck the cord of wood with a front paw. Howling in agony and embarrassment, the pain only further stoked her outrage at the situation, and she picked it up by the twine and flung it as far from herself as she could. She hadn't realized she was standing on the same patch of ice, and the momentum of her throw sent her off-balance, crashing back to the ground. Rolling onto her back, she screamed to the empty grey skies above her, thrashing her legs everywhere like a bug in its death throes.
Reaching the end of her outburst, Yrsa rolled back onto her feet and looked around for where she'd thrown her wood. She saw a disturbed patch of snow in the hedge that bordered the outside edge of the walkway and stalked over, ripping it from the shrubbery. Truly disgruntled now, she made her way back to the front door, head bent low, and a string of curses mumbled from between her teeth.
She went to push the doors open with a shoulder, only to find it too was stuck. Frantically, she began banging against the door with her shoulder, eventually using her whole body to slam against them, to no avail. Huffing and puffing, she glared at the gates, willing them to open. When nothing happened, she began slowly banging her forehead against the doors, chanting "Open, open, open" to herself, over and over again. With a sigh, she rested her head against them, resolving to herself that a personal servant would be perfect right about now. None of this would have happened if she'd had someone with her to send on this errand that she was quickly realizing was a waste of her time.
She took a deep breath and took several steps back, looking up at her domicile. She could see her room was still lit by candles, the light flickering in the glass of the window that had swung out, leaving her room open to the elements. She wished she could just fly...up...there. Unfortunately, she lacked that ability. Yet she did not lack large paws and claws perfect for climbing. She felt foolish in her realization as she quickly climbed the rocky wall and made her way in through her chamber window.
Shutting the window against the increasingly heavy snowfall, she dropped the wood with a thud and crawled onto the pile of warm furs that made up her bed. For now, Yrsa would just go to bed and wait for someone else to do the dirty work tomorrow because she was certain Olfattir was on a lark to spread discord.
