The first light of pre-dawn

The first light of pre-dawn glowed through the opening of the cave, filling in the triangular space. She slipped quietly out of bed, quickly threw on a wrap and some foot coverings, and moved silently towards the entrance.
She took a deep breath as soon as she stepped beyond the cave’s mouth. Her relief was so great, she didn’t care that icy rain soaked through her leather wrap. She slogged through the mucky quagmire in front of the cave towards the stream,, shivering from a sudden chill. Patches of snow, blackened by soot sifting out from the many fires, sent muddy runnels of water down the slope adding their small measure, to the drenching downpour that swelled the ice locked channel.
Her leather foot coverings gave small purchase on the reddish brown ooze, and she slipped and fell half way down to the stream. Her limp hair, plastered against her head, hung in thick ropes extending into rivulets that cut through the mud clinging to her wrap before the rain washed it away. She stood for a long time on the bank of the watercourse, struggling to break free of its frozen keep, and watched the dark water swirl around chunks of ice, finally break them loose, and send them careering to some unseen destination.
Her teeth were chattering when she struggled back up the slippery slope watching the overcast sky grow imperceptibly lighter beyond the ridge to the east. She had to force herself through an invisible barrier that blocked the mouth of the cave, and felt the sense of uneasiness again the moment she entered.
From the book ‘The clan of the cave bear’ by Jean M. Auel