Just a Few Questions
Nearby pines shiver, wind whipping through frost-encrusted needles. Wrapped in furs, I ignore the breeze. I’ve got more important things to worry about. Breath misting, I hold my bow ready.
In the distance, the arching mouth of a cave juts from the edge of a rocky, frostbitten foothill. A thick splatter of ice rims the rough-hewn edges.
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