... Go! [Ski Race/Feast, Day 4]

Everything is collapsing around them. A supernova exploding and it all is moving too fast. At the end of it all, destruction, death, and the promise of something to help them survive the night. 

Stella's arm is bleeding and she clutches it to her chest. Each hit of the moguls with her skis jostling the wound and the blood congealing to darkness on her fur coat. 

The younger girl - the blonde - deftly moves away from Stella's wild swings, her spear glancing off the armor once more, bending and warping the metal but it stays true. 

Aeson is still alongside her - he is lashing out at others as they pass. The violent way he carries himself is an anchor as Stella feels herself falling headfirst down the mountain. In the chaos, a spear hits Finley and he falters, his skis becoming tangled under his feet. 

"Your threats could use some work...." She jokes, before the wind steals her laughter away and her eyes find her ally.

"Finley!" she yells, her voice lost in the din of falling bodies.  She needs him to live. She needs his calming presence to make it through the darkness of this Hell.

Stella lets her outburst linger before biting back her grief. A mask slipping onto her face to hide her true anguish.

She remains quiet, yet her eyes stay fixed upon the horizon, not daring to look back at Finley and break as she moves past him. A finely crafted facade needs only one crack before it all crumbles. Fear flows through her like a river of blood.

But she was already down this path of destruction, of violence, of pain. Sacrificing the safety to take a chance to change her fate. There was no sense in stopping now.

So she swung again, her spear slicing through the cold winter's air. 

♛