Snowblind

The storm had raged on the isles for three days straight. Relentless and unyielding. Blinding snow has whipped through the air, driven by furious winds howling over the landscape. With temperatures plunged and held at a low point, the landscape froze over in a thick coat of ice and snow, and drove animals to the deepest ends of their shelters.

Deep in the bowels of a crumbling warehouse, half-buried in the masses of snow, Moose, a particularly displeased Carnotaurus, paced restlessly. These old ruins have become her prison ever since the dire snowstorm barricaded the gates from the outside. Most would wait till the storm passed, till temperatures rose high enough not to bite through skin and bones. But Moose doesn’t have the patience for such.

Her claws scraped the concrete floor, leaving shallow marks as she circled the perimeter of the room. Thin slivers of light falling through cracks in the structure illuminated her brown and white hide, and the scuffed horns she had been beating at the metal frames of the building. The storm took her by surprise one fateful night as she rested on old fabrics amidst empty boxes to beat the cold all while the snow piled higher and higher against the warehouse’s entrances. With the sudden harsh frost hardening the otherwise soft snow she was sealed in a box.

Being contained was rather unsuited for someone built to run. Pacing in circles and bashing her head at the shelves, walls and doors of this warehouse didn’t give her peace. It was gnawing at her nerves and she felt restless.

Her patience had already worn thin by the first day. By now, it had been ground to dust. Her breath came out in visible bursts, and she fell back pacing between fallen shelves and debris. Food was scarce in this confined space, and the meager scraps of critters and animals using this place as shelter had barely been enough to stave off her hunger. Moose wasn’t built for waiting, nor did she ever consider herself as the patient type. She was a vicious hunter, a creature of action- and the walls of this place felt like they were closing in as days passed in this frozen hell.

She roared her frustration out, a deep, guttural sound that echoed through the empty space and rattled loose bits of ice from the rafters. Another gust of wind shook the building’s frame, causing a loud groan to reverberate through the structure as if it answered her call. Moose’s sharp, red eyes darted to the nearest gate entrance, beaten and bent by her earlier relentless attempt to bash her mass against it. The view outside from its small windows was completely obscured by a wall of snow.

Her neck flexed, and her tail whipped restlessly from side to side behind her. She had enough.

With a snarl, Moose charged at the snow-packed doorway again just as she did the days prior. Her powerful legs launched her forward, and her horned head crashed into the barrier like a battering ram. The impact sent a shudder through the walls and a loud bang echoed through the hall. A cascade of snow fell inward with the gate bent terribly out of shape, but the barricade held firm.

After shaking off the impact, Moose growled and backed up for another attempt. This time, as she charged, her massive frame slammed the door into the snow with bone-rattling force. The barrier cracked and creaked out of its frame at the rim, sending shards of ice and pieces of metal scattering across the floor. Cold air rushed into the room, carrying the sharp bite of the still raging storm as pieces of the snow behind the doors broke away from the impact.

Moose shook her head, stray snow clinging to her horns, and snarled again. Without wasting even a second, she threw herself at the opening once more, fuelled by short-sighted intention. Finally, with a deafening crash, the gate got knocked out of its frame entirely and the hard snow behind pushed aside in flaking chunks. With the gate broken away, pressed into the slope of frozen snow, the carnotaurus had finally made her exit. She practically burst out of the opening she made and pushed herself into the blinding chaos of the storm.

The wind hit her like a physical force, nearly knocking her off balance. Snow swirled around her in a disorienting blur, and the cold bit deep into her thick hide. Moose paused for a moment, her breath steaming in the frigid air as she surveyed the white wasteland. Visibility was near zero, but she could just make out the outlines of jagged rock formations in the distance.

Driven by nothing but mere stubbornness and an unbearable hunger, Moose forged ahead. Her powerful legs churned through the drifts, even against the raging elements. She moved with single-minded determination, ignoring the icy wind that stung her face and the frost that clung to her limbs. Her hunger gnawed at her insides, urging her onward. Even within this suffocating storm, here at least she knew there to be food, freedom, and open space to run. 

The storm may have tried to contain her, but Moose was unyielding. No storm could hold her captive.

(878 words according to Google Docs)