Duskfire Glacier handful

faust lay still, his breath shallow but steady, the cold pressing against him like an old companion. the sharp bite of it worked its way into his aching body, dulling the fire of his wounds, and for the first time since the chaos began, he found a sliver of peace.

his green eyes fluttered closed, the faint shimmer of frost gathering along his battered fur. the thickening temperatures, harsh to some, were a relief to him—a reminder of the north and the resilience etched into his bones.

he let the quiet envelop him, the faint rustle of asha’s departure fading into the distance. he did not fight the cold; instead, he leaned into it, allowing its numbing embrace to ease the edges of his pain, if only for a moment.