[Completed] A U.S. expatriate is cast into a rainy, foggy corner of Europe. He went there on the pretense to work on his research, but he actually wanted to put as many miles as possible between himself and his ex.
The university he works for has fo...
As Jake had promised, the snowshoe trail started right behind the hotel. Purple-painted, wooden stakes marked a track ascending into the forest.
Carefully, Art set a snowshoe-shod foot on the snow-covered path and put his weight on it. Nothing untoward happened. The shoe sat in the snow—it didn't sink in much, nor did it spontaneously combust into flames.
Encouraged, he took a second step, using his poles to keep his balance.
"It's easy, isn't it?" Adriana had already followed Jake into the forest, and the two were now watching his first, tentative moves on snowy territory.
"Yeah. It's like walking." Art grinned and took some more steps.
He heard Rashid and the Meiers follow behind him.
The walking was easy enough, and he quickly gained the confidence to move his eyes away from his shoes and to study the scenery.
He was striding into a fairytale forest. The firs carried fat wads of snow, and the ground between them was an untouched, white duvet that glittered where the sun caressed it.
And there he was, gliding through this magic kingdom.
Walking on water, like Jesus.
With a grin, Art departed from the trodden trail. He set a shoe on a myriad of pristine snowflakes that were promising to support it in their soft embrace.
But they utterly failed to deliver on that promise.
His leg sank in, up to its knee. Losing his balance, he brought both his poles forward, stabbing the snow with them. They sank in, too, but then struck something harder, finding the resistance to keep him upright, or at least at an angle that wasn't horizontal.
"Haha, that can happen when you leave the trail." Rashid reached out to offer a hand, and Art was happy to take it.
"If the snow hasn't settled, it may not carry your weight." Rashid pulled him back onto the path.
From that point on, Art made sure to step into the footprints of those before him.
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After rescuing Art from sinking to the ground of the frozen ocean surrounding them, Rashid walked beside him. Soon, the man was panting heavily. "Snowshoeing,", he said, between breaths, "that's one of the few sports I actually practice... But only once or twice a year. Not enough to keep me fit."
"We should go jogging sometime." Art wondered if the Rashid would make it up to Utopoint.
"Sure, I'd like that."
For a couple of steps, they walked on in silence.
"You're a foreigner here, just like me." Rashid gave Art a brief glance. "So there's one thing I probably should tell you, something these Tavetians are particular about. Took me some time to learn it."
