Ch. 1: Cold and Crimson

The wolf was trotting along an invisible path for hours now, growling whenever the young woman started drifting, and each time he did so, she let out a half-hearted whine, muffled against its fur. As evening turned into night, the growling became more and more frequent as it became harder to keep her eyes open.

"Can't I just sleep…?" She moaned as she tried to drift again. Predictably, the wolf growled in response. "Please?"

Getting no response, she sighed and asked softly, "Where are you going anyway?"

Getting no response again, she sighed, again, and resigned herself to her fate of slowly dying on the back of a big, black wolf. Maybe I should count the seconds until I stop feeling anything at all, she thought sardonically.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

Limping in the other direction, a similarly pale and petite blood elf was letting out a string of curses while the air around her grew colder and colder.

It almost seemed that with every hateful curse about a particular rogue, the forest grew more and more silent, awestruck that such words can come out of anyone's mouth.

Hours passed, and while the other elf was fighting to stay awake, this one stopped mid-limp on the border between dead and living ground. Her icy blue eyes roamed over the ground and its mindless, undead occupants, who stopped and either stared back blankly, or (if they were smarter) stepped back under this deathly glare. None of them would bother her.

Soon, her eyes rested upon the remaining rubble of a house, long abandoned since the Third War like all the others in the field. She stared until she thought she saw little wisps of spirits floating up from rubble. She was probably right though, since the spirits of this land would never rest or find peace.

Nonetheless, she narrowed her eyes as her icy glare turned darker. Slowly, and almost languidly, she stepped onto this undead ground, and, with her slowly disappearing limp, walked toward the rubble.

Once close to the destroyed home, she stared at it for a moment before walking around and looking down, as if searching for something on the ground.

Barely a minute passed before she found it. It being the same ground she had been staring at for the past minute, or so it seemed.

She crouched low, touching this ground as a whisper unconsciously came out of her mouth. "Mother…" This sounded so hollow and dead, even for the death knight, that she stood up after a moment and started walking towards the Ghostlands. She would rest there.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

One-thousand, nine-hundred fifty-six… One-thousand, nine-hundred fifty-seven… Yes, the young woman on the wolf's back really was counting the seconds, although she really didn't know whether or not she could or couldn't feel her limbs anymore. Everything was just so blurry and distant. The counting gave her something to do, so she accepted the task, less sardonically than before.

It wasn't long before they had to pass through a slightly deep stream, and the wolf barked at her in warning. She simply looked up a little before forcing her fingers to clench tighter around the wolf's fur.

The cold didn't shock her, no, but the amount of blood she could see wash off her did. So much blood… She felt like she should've been afraid for her life right then, but somehow, she didn't care. She sighed and decided to go back to counting.

One-thousand… What number was I on? She felt only a slight pang of annoyance, but she found that feeling anything right now took energy, and since the wolf didn't let her sleep, she didn't have energy. The feeling passed quickly.

Her eyes drooped a little as they slowly looked around. She caught some source of light, and immediately her eyes looked back at the now passed river.

The reflection of the full moon against crimson waters was a strangely beautiful sight.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she thought that this was a strange opinion. But maybe I've always been like this.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

A/N: Yay for chapter one! Oh and about the reviews I just got… even if there's absolutely nothing wrong with the way I write, I still love—love—hearing your opinions. Reviews are like a loving kick with cushions and flowers at my lazy bum to start writing again. They make me so~ happy.

And I actually have a question for all of you about grammar. Word document says the way I used 'drooped' was wrong (third paragraph from the bottom). Do you think Word is right?

Please, please review.