“Is it much further?” I asked “You still don’t have permiss..
🕑 Added 2024-02-05 10:15:03 +0000 UTC
“Is it much further?” I asked “You still don’t have permission to speak,” Sir answered, tightening his grip on the back on my neck. We had been walking down the dark trail from our campsite for what had to have been thirty minutes now. Sir’s thick wool trench coat, which he had been generous enough to lend to me for our trek, blocked the cold wind—but every so often, a gust would come up through the opening that nearly dragged at my feet, biting at my body that was completely nude underneath, chilling me to my core. Snowfall had come through just hours earlier, and with each step came a satisfying crunch of virgin powder beneath my boots. As I shivered, I had to admire how stoic Sir was against the elements, donning a jacket not half the thickness of his coat I wore, yet seeming half as bothered as I was, marching on as though this was some brisk morning in spring, determined though determined to reach what, I did not yet know. He must have had something delicious or diabolical planned for me up ahead, given my order to march with none of my clothing beneath his coat, but how I now wished he would have just schemed to use me back at our camp, where there was a warm tent, and a fire…
