Frozen fog hung low in the air, coiling around rocks and trees ready to envelop the countryside and amalgamate with the whiteness of the snow. From a distance, a duskyfigure emerged, edging closer. The snow churned into the marsh-like ground. The figure drew closer until they passed through the curtain of fog. A young man riding a matted chestnut horse whose mud encased hooves trotted hesitantly up to the only bridge for miles. He stared intensely. The bridge was old- the rotten warped board slick with green moss. Supported by only a few rusted nails. The wind blew, and the bridge groaned in distress.Below them, a river frozen silent. Masking the violent, imperceptible water vein that heaved beneath the ice. The man breathed sharply through gritted teeth and lowered himself into the snow with a thud. The mare whinnied, withdrawing away from the edge. He walked beside her, holding the reins closely- hushing her quietly. 'C'mere girl, I know, I know. There's no other way. We can't go back, not now. Shhhh...' He had reached up and strokedher nose until her destressed cries faded. 'Aye, that's right, gently does it,' he encouraged, leading her to the threshold once again, 'It's so slight we'll be over it in no time.' He released his grip. 'And yer know, dat farm I was tellin' you about? Just over there,' he continued pointing into the distant hills.The bleak fog hadn't reached beyond the river and the knolls that lay ahead skirted by ephemeral clouds lingering from a previous snowfall. And beyond that, there was sunlight...a glimpse of spring. The warm light caressed his cheek, flickering against his skin. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, pausing for a moment.The horse nuzzled his shoulder, and his eyes opened as the sunlight retreated. 'Alright, we'll go,' he berated. His hand reached into a pocket and, with some effort, pulled out a packet of cigarettes; he glared with disdain at the name Black Cat, but pulled out the last cigarette and placed it grudgingly to his lips before dropping the packet to the ground. Through the side of his mouth, he muttered, 'Yer know Rosie, I worked in that factory for far too long anyway.' His eyes glanced down to find the cigarette, damp, in half and unravelling. He spat it into the ground. 'Let's see how this goes, shall we?' He held her reins once more but noticed the panicked movements and knew he would have to test the bridge alone. 'I'll go first, though; we'll see if this bridge is safe since ya such a coward.' Lifting his cap from his head, he ran his fingers through his short dark hair and placed it hastily on again.Weathered black boots placed themselves initially, his toes overhanging a gaping space between land and water. He looked behind at the scarred and bruised horse, 'This is your fault, you know?' he smiled nervously. 'If you had just behaved yourself, eh? We wouldn't have to cross this dangerous piece of junk.' The horse stared back at him but made no sound. 'Yeah... I know... Here I go then.' he breathed. He shifted his foot gradually over the gap, and there he was, standing on the bridge. He turned around to face his horse, who remained standing on the bank, not moving. The wood was slick, encased in soaked moss on top of that black ice. Then, suddenly, his feet slewed, the plank wobbled, and the heel of his boot gouged itself between a gap.'Jesus Christ!' he yelled as his body lurched to the side to catch hold of the railings; dampness seeped through the gloves. A pained smile gradually became a dismissive chuckle. The horse lingered on the bank. 'Come on, girl, there's no need to be scared. I'm fine- aren't I?' He took another step back, keeping his feet steady. His toes gently landed on the plank behind, feeling for the grip of bare timber. He looked up expectantly at her, his body bowing, but the eyes- he never looked away, his pupils lingered.She snorted in a panic, the whites of her eyes exposed. Her hooves began to tread the ground rhythmically, and there, at last, she stepped upon the bridge. Snow bounced in clumps and compacted into itself. The boards beneath her feet bowed. The timber splintered with a series of staccato reports. He froze, waiting with bated breath for the bridge to stop creaking.Once again, he reached to hold the horse's reins, whispering words of encouragement,'We need to keep goin', that's it, girl.' He walked calmly, gently guiding the mare forwardwith the reins. With every creak, he held his breath in an attempt not to startle her. The late afternoon left little warmth that came from daylight, and as the bitter winds came in, the first flakes of snow settled under his eye and melted under the heat of his skin, sticking only to the wool of his cap, clinging to the horse's exaggerated eyelashes.Bitter gusts of wind blew harshly against them as he edged forwards, tugging a little harder each time. She neighed loudly and pulled against him. 'Stop faffin' we're already halfway there.' He tugged on the reins once more, the smooth sole of his shoe unable to grip the icy boards. Yanked under the belly of the horse, he yelled! Wood clattered and carped, and the wind sprayed the snow against his back. Scrambling to his feet, the mare automatically started walking; steadily, she pulled himup. He wrapped the leather strap thrice around his wrist- the skin puckered, and pink imprints transformed to purple in the cold. His hiss was sharp, and the tip of his tongue protruded through a closed mouth. When his feet could ultimately connect with the surface, his heel dug in forcefully. He hauled himself to his feet with triumphant glee. He patted his horse, 'I'm such a fuckin' edjit. Sorry about that...' the horse shook her head. He cautiously removed his hand, rubbing at the straps around his wrist.One-foot brushes over a board that wobbled, and the other drew back to meet it and soon a rhythm formed, and the bridge got pulled further into the distance. If a board warped orcreaked, he stepped around it, and the horse mirrored him (in a dysfunctional way), not quite managing to place her hooves so perfectly. There was a crack. An ear-splitting fracture. A board was flicked into the air thwacking the face of the horse, she yelled, throwing her front legs in the air, kicking them out widely. 'Whoah! Calm yourself we just need to'-his horse's foot slammed against his chest, and he landed with a clatter to the ground, the strap around his wrist tightened.He grimaced, trying to force himself away from a blackout. Spots of chestnut flecked across his eyes, and in his heart, he could hear her distress. The hooves battered the bridge. Rotted fragments sprayed over him. The more she jumped, the more the bridge plummeted. The planks split open the ice revealing a fierce current that ate at the wound. Rough waves erupted through the gaps whilst the shards of ice skid, hitting the embankment and shattering. The wind caught the snow and thrust them towards his face. The gashes prised open with grit- the warmth of blood in such a contrast with the cold.He lay there, and eyes squeezed shut as the horse sprang back once again, the hollow knock of more wood tumbling into the ice. Gradually his body was slanted as the structure of the bridge finally failed. The bridge mourned as sections of wood broke away from the system. He watched helplessly as his horse hurled herself into the water. His hand groped aimlessly; the gloves scraped at the ice as the anguished cries of his horse vibrated through his skull, water sprayed against his back as leg the water. 'No...' he sobbed softly into darkness ... still...silence... enveloped by water, the white light transitioning into a sporadic grey. The muddy grey water filtered through parted lips, building until it burnt deep in the back of his throat, pressure building under a bruised chest, air sputtered from his throat.He thrashed frantically under the water, as wide eyes scanned the bottom of the lake for his horse, any sign of matted brown fur, air gagged as he attempted to hold it in his mouth, his lungs constricted. His eyes darted around as he swam along with the current, the gap of light gone as he drifted. Then, finally, a surge of water slammed him against the ice; the last of the air left his mouth.He needed to throw up; he needed to pass out. He hit something soft.Turning impulsively, he watched as his horse repeatedly smashed her head against the ice in an attempt to break it. The terror transformed into hope at the precise moment the ice began to crack. He swam towards the crack, arms outstretched as he fought against the current. Desperately, he started punching the ice with both hands, the cracks grew more expansive, and the orange light of sunset sat on the water's surface like petals. Beating harder, a section of ice lifted, just small enough for him to fit through. Realising how weak the surrounding ice would be, he grabbed the reins once more and swam through the gap and flung himself against the snow-covered embankment. His arms shook as he pulled himself up from the ground, water pooled from his lips as he coughed violently onto the ground, snow dissolved as a puddle of water and saliva built, 'fuckin' hell, ugh..' he coughed, his body writhed as he suppressed vomit from rising.Bloodshot eyes looked down at bruised fingers. A drop of water splatted the centre of his hand. He blinked. 'I'm not losin' yer, you're my horse!' he shouted furiously; clambering to his feet, he turned to face his horse, her face forced through the gap, treading water only to fall back through—ice pulsed with every attempt, pieces breaking away exposing her neck. Red cuts seeped into the ice surrounding her. With both hands holding the reins tightly, he lifted the straps over his shoulder and hauled himself forward. His eyes watered over creased eye bags and seeped into exposed wounds as his back strained, searing pain impaled around his shoulder blade, and with every step, his legs throbbed, 'Come on...' he lunged forward. 'Come on' another step ''Do! Don't you dare! Don't you fuckin' dare!' he sobbed. Finally, his legs buckled, and he fell to his knees; contorting his body, he wrenched the reins harder so that he could feel the nails in his palms. The taught leather strained, stretching it out thinly, cutting into his hand. Then, with a simple snap, the leather strap fell into and passed through his fingers. 'Fuck!' he roared, diving for the belt, his elbows colliding with the solid mud and his horse had already started to pass through into the depths. He crawled to the edge towards the fading bubbles of air and plunged his arms back into the water, feeling for anything to grab hold. Water under tension, for a moment, became something solid only to be destroyed by a passing wave. His eyesblinked sporadically; His mouth fell open, unable to say a word. Then, finally, fingers tips penetrated the surface of the water... vanishing into the blue like disintegrating paper.They stayed there until the movement in the water stopped completely.Frostbitten fingers wiped at raw crying eyes. He sniffed loudly and dragged himself up to his knees. His breath was heavy as he willed himself to stand on his feet. The worsening in his calves- his body shook. He gazed at the river, the water, only visible due to the light of the moon. Reaching up, he wiped his eyes again and looked ahead to the horizon; a man stood in the afterglow of a diminished sunset. He tilted his cap and began to walk towards him.'Are ye here because of'- he began but trailed off. It could only be because of that. He stopped walking, and the mysterious figure marched forward.'You have to go, mate. No harsh feelings,' he said, not looking him in the eye.'No none.' He closed is his breathing in deeply, faster and faster and faster. The cold metal barrel pressed against his forehead recoiled with an earth-shattering bang.Deep red blood sprayed across the frost-covered grass-like poppy buds, and he slummed to the floor. Then, as the other man stepped away, a warm yellow glow appeared flickering in the distance, just visible enough to see under fog. He walked back towards it.