Post by Kriven Raven on Dec 3, 2006 13:02:50 GMT -5
Nate stares upward at the hill ahead of him. Even though the cabin is within only a few minutes of travel up the steep hill, despair still finds it's way into his mind. Despite hating cold, Nate hates snow suits just as much and is wearing nothing save for a light coat, his red sweatshirt under that, and a t-shirt as well as a pair of jeans. All his pockets, however are stuffed full of ice-packs instead filled with hot water. Good thing Nate has nothing against boots and gloves though, both of which he decided was smart to wear.
He finally feels the ground beneath his feet begin to grow less steep as he approaches the stairs onto the cabin's porch. His feet crunch on the snow, leaving deep and detailed footprints.
"I hope she left it unlocked this year..." Nate mutters under his breath.
His ears suddenly grow painstakingly cold and he figures that they are nothing short of red. He quickly pulls the hood from his seatshirt over himself and yanks the strings until only his eyes can be seen. But as he breathes, his glasses fog up. He quickly places these in his pocket so he can at least see a little.
He steps onto the stairs before him with one foot. Instead of creaking as one might expect, the stair made only a solid and sturdy thudding nose from contact with the boot. They weren't going to break. Nate quickly makes his way onto the porch and grabs the doorknob. He yanks, trying to open the door, which doesn't budge.
"It figures." Nate says, his voice muffled from the hood.
He decides to pound heavily on the large wooden door until someone opens it.
He finally feels the ground beneath his feet begin to grow less steep as he approaches the stairs onto the cabin's porch. His feet crunch on the snow, leaving deep and detailed footprints.
"I hope she left it unlocked this year..." Nate mutters under his breath.
His ears suddenly grow painstakingly cold and he figures that they are nothing short of red. He quickly pulls the hood from his seatshirt over himself and yanks the strings until only his eyes can be seen. But as he breathes, his glasses fog up. He quickly places these in his pocket so he can at least see a little.
He steps onto the stairs before him with one foot. Instead of creaking as one might expect, the stair made only a solid and sturdy thudding nose from contact with the boot. They weren't going to break. Nate quickly makes his way onto the porch and grabs the doorknob. He yanks, trying to open the door, which doesn't budge.
"It figures." Nate says, his voice muffled from the hood.
He decides to pound heavily on the large wooden door until someone opens it.
*