Frostfire Ridge iksuktaktuk

The apparition began to move away, and Lane's efforts became instantly more frantic. She continued to bark, but the wind ripped her voice away each time, the very moment she opened her mouth. 

The ghost did not turn. Could he not hear her? His silhouette was fading, merging into the harsh and unforgiving backdrop. 

Lane continued to struggle, and with a final, mighty kick, she thrashed herself free. After a brief and ineffectual shake, she peered in the direction of the stranger. He had disappeared.

A small piece of her was convinced that the man hadn't even been real-- the mind did that sometimes, she knew, in an effort to protect the body. Lane's mind had likely played a trick on her, fooling her into digging herself out of what could have very well become her snowy grave. 

Balking at the thought of being all alone once more, Lane charged forward. Almost as soon as she got going, she slammed into something unseen (or something slammed into her?) and the impact knocked her off of her feet. Her shrill bark of pain echoed out.