Snow fell in thick, heavy sheets, blanketing the trail in white. Every step they took crunched under the carpet of fresh powder, sinking deep and leaving behind large footprints.
And through it all, the wind stayed quiet, as if allowing the sky to cry for a tragedy had happened.
Wrapped in thick, fur-lined cloaks, Ren, Lilith, and Thorn trudged silently through the mountains, the trail behind them vanishing quickly beneath the snowfall.
They had been walking for thirty minutes since fleeing the ruined Truth Stone atop the Seventh Peak.
The silence between them wasn't born from fear, but focus. Every breath they took steamed in the cold, as they sought to preserve their energy. After all, the cold was so tough, it felt like it was seeping the strength straight out of their bones.
"Do you think…?" Thorn asked, breaking the silence.
"No." Ren answered. "They're definitely dead."
