Winter's Pov.
(The Year is 1656, middle of fall)
I had woken up in my bed with this feeling of worry, as though something terrible was going to happen today. But it could not be that serious, could it? The only thing that I was doing today was taking a stroll to my grandmother's home through the gap in the forest. It was a fairly large gap that had developed over time from the need to get from town to town due to our seclusion from most people. My mother was not able to afford a home in the city, which caused my father to build this cottage in the middle of this beautiful forest. Sadly, a year after completing the cottage my father had passed away from a sickness that no one was able to identify, not even the most intelligent of doctors could understand what was happening to him. Though that was a long time ago, I still feel the grief over his loss. I still remember the day even though I was only seven.
I saw my mother on the sofa crying for the fifth time that day, It was at night and I was standing at the foot of the stairs holding my beloved stuffed wolf. My father made it for me and I hardly went anywhere without it. It was made of actual wolf fur. My father had found the wolf already dead in the forest and had skinned it and used a small portion of the fur to make the stuffed animal, using small blue buttons to look like the eyes. The fur was black and it had always soothed me whenever I was crying or in pain. I do not know how, but it just did. I was so young at the time and I did not understand the pain of losing someone that meant so much to you. Especially the person that you lost, being the love of your life. The only thing I knew was that my mother was crying and I did not like the sound of her short, painful sobs, one after another with her face in her hands. To me, she looked remarkably lonely, so fragile that if someone touched her, at that moment, she would break into a million little pieces. Thus, the only thought inside my mind was,' Go comfort her! She is crying! She never lets that happen!'
The next thing I did, I barely remember. It was like I was at the foot of the stairs one moment then the next, I was by my mother. I did the thing that first came to my mind. I handed her my stuffed wolf, I had thought that since it calmed me down that it would calm my weeping mother too. When she felt my tiny figure sit on the sofa she looked up, only to see my eyes filled with worry and me holding my wolf out towards her, hoping for her to take it out of my hands. An expression of befuddlement dawned on her face through her tears, she slowly took the wolf out of my tiny hands.
"Winter? Why are you letting me hold your wolf? You barely let it out of your sight, let alone your hands. Why my dearest?" My mother asked my young self, gently lifting me up and onto her lap.
"I heard crying and I was wondering what was wrong. I saw you and I w-(yawn)-was curious to why you were crying. I thought that if I gave that to you, you would feel better; like I always do after holding my wolf." I say, beginning to lean on my mother's shoulder as my mind fogs over with a new wave of tiredness.
Her warm hand stroked the hair from my face and tugged me into a hug,"It really is sweet of you to give me your most prized possession sweetheart but I must tell you something quite dreadful. I cannot fathom how to say this but, your father will not be coming back anymore. He has to go to a different place now, Winter." She bites her bottom lip, her face flushing red as she tries to keep herself from crying, but the already developed tears do not listen and fall from her eyes.
"Mother, do not cry, father is probably in the most wonderful forest there is right now." I pointed out to her, she knew of my father's obsession with the forest and I remember that that was where he had 'courted' her. (I did not know what courting was, or even what happened, but my mother said that when I was 14 years old she would tell me). After she had considered what I had said in her head; she nodded and embraced me in a hug. Her hugs always made me feel so warm and loved but this one felt different, almost as though she was trying to shield me away from the world. After that moment, we became closer. Not just as mother and daughter, but as a close friend I could tell anything to.
I snapped out of my memory frowning a bit but hiding it. Pushing the memory away, I rip the covers from my body and stand up out of my bed. Stumbling a bit, I search for my morning footwear and accidentally hit my foot on my bedside table. Heaving our a sigh, I set my eyes upon my elk slippers that lay adjacent to the table. Sliding my freezing feet into the soft fur of the shoe, I inadvertently remember something from my father. When I was younger, he had taught me how to hunt, so I could kill animals when I needed something and he was not around. But he also taught me that I had to use it for important things such as food, jewelry, or clothing. I never wasted any part of the animal, and if we, my mother and I, did not use something, we would bury it in the soil to renew it. He always was a resourceful person, if only he had been alive longer to teach me more of his ways. He remains the only one of my parents whom allowed me to run wild in the forest, without a care, and relished in watching me smile. My mother, on the other hand, loathes when I leave the home, fearing that I will die in the dangerous world. She traps me in here day in and day out, praying that I will stay safe forever.
Huffing to myself, I shake my head, never mind those bittersweet memories. I must think of only the present, and besides, my mother told me when I was 11 and a half the real reason he was gone and made my world a bit darker. I understand more now, although I wish I could have stayed naive for a bit longer, being blissfully unaware of the dangers of the outside world. A faint voice calls my name, kicking me from one of my many daydreams. Making my towards my mirror on the right side of my room, I look in it and see that my hair is quite knotted and messy. I grab my brush and start brushing through my tangled mess of blonde hair. Just as I get the last tangle out, I hear a voice call my name.
"Winter Storm Melody, where are you?" My mother's frantic voice shrieks from downstairs. Huffing a bit, I walk towards my door and open it, stepping out just enough to see my mother at the bottom of the staircase looking at me in the eyes.
"I was in my room mother, I was sleeping just minutes ago." I tell her truthfully, my blue eyes looking into her frightened brown ones.
Her stare penetrates through me as I hear her take a deep breath, "You are in just a sleeping gown? You are supposed to be at your grandmother's home in but a few hours. You must put on an appropriate dress, with a cloak of yours right now, then you can eat something for breakfast." My mother tells me firmly. I sigh, going into my bedroom and search for my best dress. After looking through the drawers, I find the dress that my grandmother absolutely adores, it is a blue dress that has sleeves that form into these blue leather forearm protectors. They ended just below the elbow, a sort of protection for the forearm because most animals tend to bite your outstretched arms. Remembering that my mother is still calling my name, I put the dress on and discover that a large tear is at the bottom, causing it to lose a few inches and lay right above where my boots sit. Grabbing the knife I hide from my mother, I cut off the torn piece and leave the edges a bit tattered. Next, I look for the red cloak that my mother gave me one Christmas. The cloak is draped on a chair near my study, the worn cloth molding into the chair itself, showing just how old it is. A flash of memory runs through my mind as I remember what the people from the town called me. Due to how much I loved the cloak, I never wanted to wear anything else and that caused me to gain a bit of a name to myself. Every once in a while, my mother would allow me to leave home with her and travel to the village to get our necessities. I would wear this cloak as I rode one of our horses into town, which would cause a stir as most clothing tended to be quite dull and dreary. They created stories about me, some going as far as to say I was a ghost that had unfinished business that needed to be taken care of. Shaking my head at my scattered mind, I continue to look for my shoes. Glancing around I take a guess and look under my bed, seeing the two black boots, I grab them, put them on, and walk out my bedroom door. I hop down the stairs with my cloak in hand, carelessly missing every few steps before I land at the foot of the stairs.
I turn to my right and see my mother sitting at the table eating porridge with a variety of berries. Seeing my form, she beckons me to sit down hurriedly, doing as told I plop down onto the seat in front of her. With a full mouth, she pushes a bowl of porridge towards me with my favorite berries. Strawberries & Blueberries. I hurriedly ate my porridge, fast enough that I had finished in a matter of minutes. Throwing a glance at the window, I notice the sun has begun to set. Groaning, I push myself up from my seat and proceed to wrap my cloak around my shoulders, tying the two pieces of string together. In a hurry, I begin to walk towards the door, until I hear my mother's reprimanding voice.
"You forgot your basket, Winter. Mustn't forget the gifts for your grandmother?" Hearing the word gift, I turn around and walk towards her with a puzzled face. I did not know I was bringing gifts this time? I grab the basket from her and look inside it. I see a cake, yarn, berries, and cookies.
"Mother? What are these for? I see it is for eating, but why do you want me to bring them with me today when you never asked me to do it before." Curiosity spilling into every word I spoke.
" I just wanted to do something nice for my own mother, is that wrong of me to do?" she inquires.
"No, mother it is not wrong, I was just...wondering." I stated my answer as I pull up my hood over my face grabbing the basket out of her hand and quickly hugging her and kissing her cheek goodbye, I shuffle towards the door. Just as I place my hand on the doorknob, her soft voice enters my ears.
"Please be careful, my dear, do not make me lose trust in you. Stay safe." Turning my head, I give her a wide smile before I turn the knob and walk out of the cottage and into the forest.
Author Note
Okay, so that was a really fun beginning chapter to write. It was basically just the beginning of the whole story. You'll see what happens to her when she goes into the forest. It'll progress in the next chapter or two. In the media, the pic is of Winter, but picture her with blue eyes.
Edited On July 31, 2018
Fixed plot errors, spelling issues, and made it read a bit better.