The char-blackened trees stood stark against the snowy landscape, seeming to ask what they had done to deserve this. To this, Kelty had no answer.

Yes, poor trees, said the Voice. You really ought to be more careful.

Kelty bristled.

"Oh do be quiet if you're not going to be a help."

Well that's a way to treat your closest confidante... the Voice moaned but Kelty was not listening, distracted as she was by a feeling.

Not anxiety. That felt like the kettle boiling in her gut.

Not fear. That felt cold, like the snow that stung her feet.

No...

It was more like...