Walking is easy. Flying is beautiful, freeing. Sleeping is peaceful. But falling—it's beyond frightening.
Nanuktaaq knew not what to expect when she had first admitted her desire to travel, to find new lands. From one village she would go and create one of her own, just as the elders had spoken it true. The spirits will guide you, as will your soul, they told her. But they hadn't told her it would feel so strange.
Waking at the base of a mountain, covered in a sheen blanket of snow... how did one know where to go from that? Where could she even go? Water sounded in the distant. Was she trapped here? Forever fated to this unfamiliar place? Or was it a sign?
She had expected to travel. Far and wide, her feet would carry, eyes searching for a place to call home. But is that not what the great spirits wanted? Surely it wasn't this easy. There must be trials, tribulations. Or maybe those were only yet to come.
Sighing a deep breath, the warmth of it fading and being carried off in the distant, she carefully glanced off into the distance. There an unlit path ahead. One she would need find on her own. But hope, she carried. And she would continue to hope. Even until her dying breath.
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