The bitter winter wind howled through the towering, snow-dusted pines of the Northern territory, carrying a bite that chilled right through heavy leather and wool. A thick blanket of white covered the mountain pass, making the trek to the Pineclaw Pack slow and arduous.
It had been a full month. A long, agonizing month of quiet halls, lingering tension, and relentless heavy snow.
Valex rode near the front of the small convoy, his face set like carved marble against the freezing air. His cloak was pulled tight around his broad shoulders, though the frost seemed incapable of dampening his sharp, commanding presence. Behind him, Kael kept his horse at a steady pace, his eyes scanning the dense treeline out of sheer habit, his breath billowing in white clouds into the crisp air.
