Duskfire Glacier stopping time

AW but maybe @Astier :D?

the air was sharp, charged with the weight of what was to come. keshka moved through the glacier like a blade through ice, her steps measured, purposeful.
she had seen war before. had bathed in its blood, had torn through its flesh. but this—this was different. this was for darukaal. for faust. for the home she had bled for.
her fangs ached for the fight.
she rolled her shoulders, shaking out thick fur, nostrils flaring as she inhaled the cold, crisp air. battle was on the horizon, and she would be ready.
she always was.

<3!

The call to war settled upon him like a mantle of ice; weightless to the eye, yet pressing against his bones with a familiar grip. Though his ivory coat bore no scars of the past, Astier had seen war before. Long ago, when the Star Mountains clashed with Evenfall over dominion of the tines. And they had won. He had carved his place in battle once, and he would do so again.
The wraith lingered upon the glacier, his gaze distant, when a familiar figure entered his periphery; the pale she-wolf from the gathering. He recalled the steel in her voice, the certainty in her call. No hesitation. A rare thing. Enough to stir his interest. There was something in her stance, in the way she carried herself, that spoke of one well-versed in the ways of war. He would see for himself if she lived up to it.
With a silent grace befitting his namesake, Astier closed the distance, his presence a shadow at her back before a low, rumbling grunt shattered the quiet; his only announcement.

keshka turned at the sound, ears flicking to the deep rumble behind her. astier, yeah?
her gaze swept over him, measuring, appraising. he carried himself well—like a man who had seen the battlefield and survived it. but surviving was one thing. thriving in war, becoming it, was another entirely.
wanna see what you’re made of?
her voice was edged with challenge, but her stance remained loose, unbothered, as if she were discussing something as simple as the weather. yet, there was something in her gaze, a flicker of anticipation, of hunger.
she shifted her weight, muscles coiling beneath her pelt, ready to test him. war was coming, and there would be no room for hesitation. if he was to stand beside them, he would need to prove it.

first time writing fighting scenes! hope I'll do good :')

Perhaps it was the way his name left her lips, or the defiance gleaming in her eyes like ice catching the sun; something in her roused a long-dormant hunger. Not one of conquest, but of challenge. The wraith’s gaze darkened, his claws pressing into the frost-bitten earth, shoulders poised as if bracing for a storm. A fire kindled beneath the ice, the quiet fervor of battle stirring in his veins.
He looked down upon Keshka, a glint of something dangerous curving his lips. So, she would not yield. Good.
„Come then, nislith,”  his voice was a winter wind, edged with amusement yet laced with warning. His muzzle lifted ever so slightly, pale eyes gleaming. „I’ll try not to break you.”
Then, like the specter he was, he closed the space between them in a heartbeat; silent, swift, inevitable.