Amelia shuddered as the chill winds of the Outside swept across her face.
It had been two days since Ryn and Fritz left on the infiltration mission. She hadn't heard anything since, but decided to worry about her own tasks.
They'll be fine.
She looked back at the group now crowding around Jay.
In that short span of time, things had changed—quietly, yet drastically.
Jay crouched near the edge of the terraced clearing, sleeves rolled up as he examined the dark-leafed plants pushing through the snow-dusted soil.
Frost clung to their outer leaves, but the stems remained firm, green veins glowing faintly beneath the surface.
"They'll survive," Jay said at last, straightening with a tired grin.
"Cold-resistant. Slow growth, but steady. If we keep the soil insulated like this, they'll last."
Around him, a few tribesfolk murmured in disbelief.
Plants that could grow here, not scavenged nor traded, but cultivated, were worth more than food.
They were a lifeline.
