Feed the Fire

The burning leaves curl under the fire's heat, making snaps and crackles that were slowly lulling her to sleep by the heat of the fire.

Tomorrow would be cold, just like the weatherman predicted. Every day was cold now. Every day was a scramble for the food to feed that nights fire. And if she was very lucky, she wouldn't go without the means to feed herself.

Every day was a struggle and every night was a battle of wills. Wrestling with her thoughts every night as she huddled behind a snow bank on the frozen tundra, her brain seldom delivering her anything but nightmares.

The beasts had gotten more bold, and she wondered more and more if the amulet she still clutched so desperately would ever reach its destination.

[I don't know if this fits the prompt, but I enjoyed writing it! (:

Let me know if I should write more!]