Duskfire Glacier tartok

@Iosef?

the wind bites as faust moves through the glacier, a hulking shadow against the endless white.
the cold is sharp, cutting through even his thick coat, but he doesn’t mind. it keeps him focused. keeps his mind from wandering to things he’d rather not think about.
iosef.
the name lingers in his head like a distant drumbeat. the man had vanished from his sight for too long, and faust didn’t like that. he didn’t trust those who disappeared without reason. men who slipped through cracks like ghosts—those were the ones you kept an eye on.
he lifts his head, nose twitching against the wind. faint traces of scent—stale, but still there. he presses forward, claws digging into packed snow as he follows the trail through the icefields, toward the edge of the glacier where the land gives way to jagged cliffs and frozen rivers.
iosef, he calls, voice a low rumble against the quiet. not demanding, not yet, but firm.
his breath fogs in the air as he waits. the wind howls through the barren landscape, but no answer comes immediately. his patience thins.
faust moves again, weaving between ice and stone, searching. if iosef was nearby, he’d find him. if he had wandered too far, faust would drag him back himself.