12.18.13.

I wished that it would have been like the stories in books. The heroine is swept up into a hero’s arms and blacks out, only to wake up hours later in a warm bed with a steaming cup of tea pressed into her hands. It wasn’t like that at all.

I didn’t black out, I saw everything. I felt the burn of every snowflake against my skin. The huntsman didn’t have the steadiest gait, although I could hardly blame him. I was light, but not so light that I didn’t make a pretty clumsy burden, absolutely limp, and frozen to my core. The huntsman kept on at the same brisk  pace, weaving in between trees and darting under boughs.

“How do you walk so effortlessly?” I asked, too cold and miserable to care if I was rude. I wanted distraction desperately, and conversation was the easiest route to getting my mind off of my icy limbs. The huntsman stopped.

“I follow the dogs.” He said, glancing down at me. “Anna?”

“Mm?” I blinked, drowsily.

“Are you feeling tired again?”

I nodded. My tongue felt like lead, and gravity clutched at my eyelids.

“Don’t go to sleep.”

I said nothing, closing my eyes.

“Anna!” He shook me, alarmed by my silence.

Confused, I grimaced and looked up, not recognizing him or my surroundings. The world was rapidly growing fuzzy. “My name isn’t Anna.” I said.

“What is your name then?” The huntsman started walking again, more quickly. We brushed into tree trunks and branches as he sacrificed accuracy for speed.

“Bela.” I murmured, slipping steadily into a funnel of darkness. I longed to drift away into sleep. The huntsman slapped me across my face.

“Wake up, Bela.”

Crying out in pain, I realized that he was right. If I fell asleep I would die. The huntsman knocked into another tree, stumbling. He regained his footing and murmured gruffly, “Sorry.”

“I should be apologizing to you.” I managed a laugh. “How far away are we?”

“A few minutes I think. Keep talking, but quietly, so I can hear where I’m going.”