Chapter 82: Whispers and Charges
The world became a gradient of pain and ice. The forest gave way to bare, wind-scoured rock, and then to the first tongues of the permanent glacier, a vast, bruised blue-white plain under a sky the color of old steel. The air was no longer just cold; it was a predator, stealing warmth with every breath, making the lungs ache and the eyes water.
The Silverfang pack and their Southern allies moved like a single, desperate organism across the frozen expanse. The graceful lope was gone, replaced by a trudging, relentless jog. Paws and boots crunched rhythmically on the granular snow. No one spoke. Energy was too precious.
