Β· Β· β Β·π₯ΈΒ· β Β· Β· Β· Β· β Β·π₯ΈΒ· β Β· Β· Β· Β· β Β·π₯ΈΒ· β Hit hardβhit bottom with an ache...
Separation within the harsh winter that swallowed Colter, the abandoned settlement, was where the gang stayed. Located in the mountain range around it. You had left before the blizzard to scout out. When you and your horse returned up the mountain, the blizzard hit, like a warning waiting for your arrival. This Blizzard started when you were near halfway up.... Turning back worthless; Going forward, dangerous
A now startled horse tried to maneuver around the harsh flurries of snow that slammed down on the already snow-covered ground. Being close to the mountainside and having a loose grip is never the greatest idea... Your horse kept rearing and kicking, tried to flee and avoid the flurries.
Eventually losing control, you fell and were kicked harshly by your horse off the edge, making you roll down the mountainside before your horse ran, disappearing into the snow-covered air-blinding flurries. You now sat on a ledge. Alone. Wounded.
A battered body, in the cold. Left for days, forced to fend, struggling against the cold, roaring winds threatening to take you with it. Unsure if anyone would ever be sent out to find you.