The following day, Odhran, Elian, and Marek reached the Mourning Peaks in the evening. While they walked the path, the trees had become thinner and shorter. The ground had grown harder. Then the snow appeared.
At first, it was just patches against the roots of the pines. Then it became a full layer covering the earth. By the time they reached the base of the first peak, the snow was deep enough to cover Marek's boots up to his ankles.
Marek shivered. His cloak was thick, but it was not designed for this climate. He had been traveling through forests and hills for months. He had not prepared for snow. His fingers felt stiff inside his clothes. His ears burned from the cold wind that came down from the peaks.
Elian walked ahead of them. She breathed in deeply through her nose and let the air out in a long cloud of steam.
"Home sweet home," Elian said. She sounded genuinely happy.
