Snippet #2324126

Where the Invictus were cautious in their ascent, Maria's pace was fueled by something more primal. Falling wasn't a concern that crossed her mind, nor did the possibility hold her back. Numb fingers gripped a small crevice in the ice, a boot wedged against a rocky outcrop. Hand over hand. Sweat coated her form, even with the frigid air biting at her skin, and her silvery eyes had taken on an amber hue.

The summit was within sight, within reach.

Down below she could hear them, their voices calling to one another as they too made their way up the rocky face. There were about six, maybe eight by her reckoning. She never looked down though, and soon her hand found purchase upon the summit of the of the precipice. Hoisting herself up, she rose to her feet as her lips curled back into what could only be described as a sneering snarl.

She had found herself standing upon a small plateau of rock jutting out from the mountainside with a wall of sheer ice ahead. No winding caverns, no mountain passes, only an imposing wall of ice.