Duskfire Glacier We Light the Way

@Astier

faust stands in the biting cold of the glacier, the frozen winds clawing at his fur, but he remains unmoved. the sky above is a muted gray, the air thick with the weight of snow. here, in the heart of the glacier, the world is unyielding, a reflection of the man who trains within it. his breath comes in sharp puffs, dissipating into the still, harsh air.
the terrain is unforgiving, but faust welcomes it. the ice beneath his paws is slippery, but it sharpens his focus. each movement is controlled as he moves through the frozen landscape with the grace of a predator. his body is a weapon, each strike of his limbs cutting through the cold with the same precision as his mind.
he practices with his weight, shifting between his forelegs, testing his balance against the unsteady ground. he leaps, narrowly avoiding a patch of ice, and then lands with the kind of grace that belies his size. the wind howls around him, but he doesn't falter. his muscles strain with the effort, but the satisfaction is in the burn.