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by The fjords were veiled in mist, the barely rising sun casting the snow-capped peaks in foggy Lord of the Rings light. Snow crunched under Sloane's skis as she trekked upwards, her breath forming silvery wisps in front of her face. This is what she loves. The cold. The silence. The mountains spreading beneath her feet. She was so far out that even the twinkling Christmas lights of the village had disappeared, swallowed behind a peak. Endless miles behind her.
The sky started glowing purple and yellow, the last stars slowly fading. A large, genuine smile spread on her face. Here, she was at home: just her and the snow and the mountains, partly covered by those strange forests she loved so much. The snow thrummed beneath her skis in response to her euphoria, which increased the further up she went.
By the time she reached the summit, the sky had turned pink, with shades of warm orange. Sloane gazed down at the immaculate peaks, the snow glittering magnificently. She smiled again. A huge, happy smile, mixed with a little joyful chuckle. Then she let her skis dip forward off the edge of the mountain, dropping towards the ground. Her hair rushed upwards. Her hands tightened around her sticks.
The impact came, and with it, a burst of snow that hit her like a freezing ocean wave. Gliding forwards, she gathered speed, the side of her skis carving into the powder. The feeling of weightlessness overwhelmed her, the rush of wind amplifying the pounding of her heart.
The sky started glowing purple and yellow, the last stars slowly fading. A large, genuine smile spread on her face. Here, she was at home: just her and the snow and the mountains, partly covered by those strange forests she loved so much. The snow thrummed beneath her skis in response to her euphoria, which increased the further up she went.
By the time she reached the summit, the sky had turned pink, with shades of warm orange. Sloane gazed down at the immaculate peaks, the snow glittering magnificently. She smiled again. A huge, happy smile, mixed with a little joyful chuckle. Then she let her skis dip forward off the edge of the mountain, dropping towards the ground. Her hair rushed upwards. Her hands tightened around her sticks.
The impact came, and with it, a burst of snow that hit her like a freezing ocean wave. Gliding forwards, she gathered speed, the side of her skis carving into the powder. The feeling of weightlessness overwhelmed her, the rush of wind amplifying the pounding of her heart.