Peaceful Farming (38)

She layered up quickly—thick woolen underclothes, a sturdy tunic, a heavy cloak lined with fur—each piece another barrier against the biting cold that awaited her outside. By now, the routine was second nature. Every morning brought the same fight against the storm, but it was a fight they could not afford to lose.

Elara and her son were already waiting by the door, their faces set in quiet determination. Without a word, Arpious braced herself and pushed against the heavy wooden door. It took more effort than it should have—the snow had drifted high against it overnight—but with a final shove, the door gave way, and the blizzard greeted them with an icy roar.

The cold was immediate and unforgiving. Snow swirled in violent gusts, slipping into every gap in their clothing, biting at their exposed skin. The wind was so strong that it stole the breath from their lungs, leaving them momentarily stunned before they pressed forward.