‘What had he, a poor soul, ever done to deserve this?’ Miri’in wondered to himself.

Had he lived twenty years in service of the royal family, slain man and beast alike in the name of the empire, just to end his days in a blizzard?

On the other hand this was the great storm that came over the mountains every year and brought winter to these endless fields. He had been in caught in this storm before, but he had never before experienced the blizzard head on. Some people believed that the storm was magical, and that it was the will of the God.
Miri’in did not believe in any God, he was a spirit of nature and in the forces of nature he believed.
He cursed himself however, for being forced into this storm at the worst possible location. These fields were not known as The Fields of Eternity for nothing, and held few places where one could seek shelter.

Miri’in felt how he drained his last powers when he had to dodge yet another wall of snow that the wind had built up and thrown against him. He had to focus all his willpower on trying not to fall over and allow the wind to carry him away. By then he was so exhausted that his will was all that remained, and it was his will against the blizzard’s will. Like two very strong and persistent men wrestling until they both fainted.

The storm however, did not ease, but rather intensified as Miri’in fought on blindly. Though he was killing himself in continuing, Miri’in struggled on for yet awhile.

Something silently and very fast suddenly flew by him, unhindered by the strong winds. Miri’in pounced backwards in shock, suddenly seeing people all around him. All of them he recognised, haunting images from the past. People he had killed, people he had tortured and people that had tortured him and many more.
Seeing all the images staring hatefully at him withdraw his attention from the storm, and the wind countered by shoving another cloud of snow into his eyes. The blistering snow hurt him enough to clear his mind and the images were gone. He also understood at the same time that trying to walk through this was futile.

He began to dig into the snow, trying to create a hole into which he could cover himself from the blizzard. The storm did it’s best to try and fill his hole with snow again, so that he was forced to dig faster. Miri’in roared in anger at the wind.

By the time he was pleased enough with what might very likely be his own grave, his body ached all over. He could barely stand straight anymore, so he crawled into the hole and tried to make it as comfortable as he could.

He felt some kind of illness fall over him, probably from the exhaustion, and found it very hard to stay awake - more or less like he was on the verge of fainting.
‘Might as well sleep, surviving it or not’ he thought to himself.
His front paws were bleeding from digging in the cold snow, and his fur was like spikes.
The cold was not as intense once one got out of the wind, but he was too tired to think of it.
The sound of the wind raging on the surface was inviting Miri’in to sleep, and so he fell asleep quickly.

It would be a long night.