Snow Peaks Part One

The following three pieces will be the same takes on the same scene from different perspectives. Here is the first of this series.

His brown robes billowed. Flecks of snow whirled off his fur lined hood, spinning out into the empty air. As his robe whipped in the frigid air little specks of snow were dethroned as they joined their brothers in the snowy air. The tattered edges of the robe scraped against the snow covered rocks. The brown strands of fibers clung to the icy ground as they where whipped across the snow plane tossing cold flecks of water everywhere. But underneath that have sack of twisting cloth, heavy boots clung to the ground.

The well worn soles pressed into the snow earth, covered with each barrage of snow. The filled heals pressed hard against the snow pack earth they leaned on, the boots laces covered in layers of snow and ice. Even though the thick leather girded his shins, those utmost reaches were under the constant fear of an icy drowning.

Far above, his hands were encased in leather gloves. The white drifts of snow that found their resting place on the creases of those gauntlets matched the color of his hands inside, pale form constant use. His knuckles were bleached under the strain, and the once thick palms gripped the smooth groves of a large oaken staff. The two hands creaked as they clutch that rod, planting it firmly into the snow.

At the summit of his well cloaked form a winter hood shrouded his head. Well bent into the approaching winds, the fur lining whipped and crackled with the power of the storm. Shards of ice clung to the furs before they were buffeted away in a gale of wind. And underneath that armor of cloth and leather some creature paused in his stride.

All about the winds just howled. And that huddled form took another step into the snow filled ground.