Ha, ha, ha…
The voice of the panting woman didn't travel very far at all; she was near her limits anyway. She had been running for more than an hour now from something, something evil, and was unaware that the darkness had overtaken the day in the sky above. Perhaps she wasn't to be blamed, snow was still pouring heavily, and the land she was threading was densely packed with the flabby white ice to the point each draining limp she took sunk her leg deep in the snow, good thing she wore her raffia boots, and it couldn't be worse, she was carrying a child; a baby in a raffia basket padded with jute fibers inside supporting the baby. Alongside her deep footsteps in the snow were splashed crimson spots which had sharp contrast on the snow which was dripping from her, she was bleeding, her right hand was holding down the wound on her abdomen while her left supported the dangling basket hanging around her neck.
