Chapter Text
A Little Less Lonely
In all her years running the Greater Trolberg Meteorological Bureau, Victoria Van Gale had never seen a storm like this. It was chaos; a deluge of snow, whipped up by gale-force winds, was rapidly burying the city. It had choked the streets, frozen hard on the roads, and dragged visibility down to near zero, forcing her to issue the strongest blizzard warnings her position allowed and force everyone to stay home.
But, of course, Victoria couldn’t follow her own advice. Because she knew there was only one thing that could create such a violent weather system, especially on such a short timescale; somewhere far above, about eight miles into the wilderness by her radar scans, an argument between weather spirits had devolved into a brawl. And as a researcher of the supernatural, Victoria just had to study it.
So she had thrown every piece of measuring equipment she could dig out into her old utility truck, pulled on her heaviest winter coat, shuttered the weather station, and was now racing out of Trolberg in pursuit of the storm. Strictly she should have stayed at her post, but her duties to the city were the least of her priorities in the face of the discoveries she was sure she would soon make. Besides, it wasn’t like she could send more radio messages out in this weather.
The road was little more than a pale grey streak in a sea of white, and beyond a few metres everything gave way to a grey haze. Still she gunned it on, high-beams flashing off glittering snow and treacherous ice. Distantly she heard a rumble, what would normally have been the deafening crack and blinding flash of lightning turned to low sound and a brief glow above by the choking haze.
As she rounded a bend, she saw lights flashing through the snow, headlight and torch-beams cutting glowing trails towards her. She hit the brakes, the truck slipping and sliding on the icy road. In her own lights she saw crash barriers and parked cars, the silhouettes of people standing between them. One of them waved as she skidded to a stop, right in front of the barriers.
Peering through the windscreen she could see multiple Safety Patrol officers in full winter gear, flashlight-rifles at the ready to drive back the haze. They had half of the road cordoned off, cars parked in a semicircle with headlights facing out to warn oncoming traffic. Craning her neck, she could just see what they were protecting; on the far side of the road was a badly wrecked car.
It was on its side, windows and lights smashed. The rear axle hung loose from its mounts, swaying slightly in the storm-winds. It looked recent, only a thin blanket of snow covering the battered yellow metal. But there was no sign of any medical personnel, no ambulances amid the Patrol cars. Had the injured, or worse, already been taken away?
A thump on her driver’s side window snapped Victoria’s attention away. She turned to see the Patrol officer that had flagged her down standing right at the truck’s door, a grim expression on his face. He gestured impatiently, clearly eager to talk to her, and with a frustrated sigh she cracked the window just enough for him to speak through.
“Where are you going, ma’am?” he asked bluntly. “All non-essential travel is suspended due to the storm. You’ll have to turn back.” He gestured wide, as if he thought she couldn’t already see how bad things were.
“I’m with the Greater Trolberg Meteorological Bureau,” she hurriedly insisted. “I need to get closer to that storm; studying a weather event like this is the only way to ensure we can keep people safe from it.” The officer paused, scratching his chin.
“May I see some ID, ma’am?”
“Oh fine,” she couldn’t help muttering, reaching under her overcoat to find her ID card clipped to her lab coat beneath. She pulled it free, holding it up to the window so the man could see. He let out a hum, eyes narrowing for a moment before he finally seemed to acquiesce.
“Very well,” he said, somewhat reluctantly, “but please, take care out there, ma’am.” There was suddenly a twinge in his voice; he glanced over his shoulder, towards the wrecked car. “The roads are very dangerous in this weather.”
“Thank you,” she said briskly, not even waiting for him to fully step back before putting her foot down. The truck’s engine roared, and with a screech she pulled away. She glanced back over the instruments littering her dashboard, then turned her gaze firmly to the road as the wreck passed by. The last thing she wanted was to be reminded of what could go wrong.
She could see her readings spiking as she closed the distance; the eye of the storm was only four miles away, then only three, then two. She could see the wind picking up, the snow turning to flurries around her. She was almost there.
“Come on, come on,” she found herself muttering. Her grip on the wheel tightened, anticipation buzzing. She peered out through the windscreen, past her frantic wipers, trying to catch any glimpse of her target. And then the road went out from under her.
She didn’t even have time to realise she had missed a turn. The truck bounced roughly, lurching forwards as snowy soil replaced asphalt. She slammed on the brakes, leaning back hard into her chair, but it was too little too late. The truck ploughed on, wheels skidding on the ice, down a verge at alarming speed.
It came to a stop with a crunch, throwing her hard against the steering wheel. She sat up quickly, hissing in pain and rubbing at her temple, and slowly the pain dulled to a low throb.
Only then did she take stock of her situation. In front of her the windscreen was covered in snow, a forest of cracks spreading from the centre. All of the readouts bolted to her dashboard were dead; no doubt the delicate equipment in the back that fed them data had all been smashed to bits, she thought dryly. The truck’s engine still spluttered, not yet dead, but putting her foot down did nothing besides make it rattle louder.
The whole thing was still tilting forwards. Slowly she stood up, opening the door and stumbling out into the snow. She nearly fell over when her boots plunged straight into it, two feet deep, but she managed to steady herself by grabbing onto the door.
From outside it was clear what had happened. She had ploughed right off the road, down an embankment, and ended up burying the front of her truck deep into a snowdrift in the gully below. The thing was clearly well-stuck, not going anywhere without a crane most likely. Any hopes of chasing the weather spirits had been completely dashed, she realised. Which left Victoria with a daunting prospect; how was she supposed to get help now?
She had an emergency radio, at least. Carefully she leaned back into the truck, reaching across to the glove compartment and pulling it open. A moment of rummaging produced a large walkie-talkie with an extendable antenna, bashed around a bit but still functional. The only problem would be getting signal, especially in this weather. If her station transmitter couldn’t get through it, what hope did a little portable one have?
Ruling out the idea with a frustrated sigh, she slipped the radio into an inner pocket and looked back up at the road. It couldn’t be that far back to the Safety Patrol, she reasoned; if she could somehow climb back up the embankment, she could probably make it back to them. Exposure wasn’t an immediate concern at least, not with all her winter gear.
A sudden, very much animal noise snapped her attention away. She jumped, a strangled sound of surprise escaping her throat. Turning revealed the source; standing by the front of the truck, light enough that it only sank up to its chest in the snow, was a small white creature.
It was a tiny four-legged thing, with short fur and beady black eyes. Two small horns poked out from the top of its head, little more than numbs of black keratin. It was eyeing her strangely; she got the inexplicable sense it wanted her to do something.
“Ummm, hello?” she offered gingerly; interacting with wildlife had never been her strong point. She enjoyed studying them, sure, but she knew how unpredictable these things could be. The creature let out a strange yelp, turning away from her and into the storm. It gave a little nod, almost as if to say, “follow me”.
“Do you want me to follow you?” She raised an eyebrow. It repeated the gesture, taking a slow step in the direction it wanted to go. It was now undeniable; this strangely intelligent forest animal wanted her to go with it.
With a sigh, Victoria looked back up at the road. The climb seemed to grow longer and more daunting the more she stared at it, so she shook her head and looked back at the animal. It let out an impatient bark, then started trotting away.
“Alright, alright,” she acquiesced, shutting the truck door and trudging off after it. This creature didn’t seem to be a predator, she reasoned, and it had to have some kind of shelter from the storm.
After a few moments the truck disappeared behind her; she could already see her footprints disappearing, leaving her no other option than to keep following her new companion. Part of her wondered if she had finally gone mad, enough to entrust her fate to an animal, but it was too late for second thoughts.
It led on, until finally she saw lights glowing through the blinding snow. She couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief; the glow was wider and fainter than those of the Safety Patrol, but it was definitely there. Her companion made a beeline for it, and as she followed she could make out the source: a small wooden cabin, welcoming light spilling out of square windows.
The animal definitely knew the place. It darted up to the door and started scrabbling, scratching frantically. Victoria stepped up behind it, ready to knock, but the door swung open before she could.
Standing in the doorway, haloed in the orange light, was a young girl. The top of her head was below Victoria’s knees; her hair was blue, pulled into twin pigtails and topped with a black beret. She wore a thick brown sweater several sizes too large, the sleeves swallowing her hands completely, and a red scarf wrapped around her neck. A look of relief decorated her pale, round face the moment she saw the creature on her doorstep.
“Twig!” She opened her arms and the animal leapt into them, snuggling up against her front. “You can’t run off like that, okay? Especially when mum’s not here.” Victoria cleared her throat; the child’s gaze snapped up, eyes going wide as she took in the strange woman in her doorway. “Wait, who are you?”