Sharn pulled her white cloak around her as she neared the river Derdank. There were often fishermen out in the early mornings picking holes in the ice. Sharn did not want to be seen by anyone just in case she was still being tracked.
She had noticed the noise shortly before dawn. A slow sort of slithering. But everytime she stopped so did the noise. Sharn's heart had started racing and her body ached with the desire to fly, to escape this danger through the crisp air. But she couldn't, so she was forced to keep walking, keeping an eye out for any immediate danger. After some time the sound disappeared, but Sharn was determend not to be caught off guard. Not this time.
Sharn stopped just before the river and slipped on a pair of worn out brown boots. They looked odd in comparison to her completely white outfit, but they were necessary. As Sharn stepped onto the bridge that would take her across the river, a deep footprint was left in the snow. Sharn gasped as the snow came up to her knees. It was deeper than she thought. She took another step and the same thing happened with the other foot. Sharn was leaving a trail.
"For Whom?" one might ask.
Why, for No Body, of course.
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