Operation Polar Winds : Part Twenty-Five

Everyone present seemed small before the new arrival, garbed from head to toe in haphazardly sewn and tied together fabric, horrendously long hands and fingers emitting cracking noises with every motion, a low, guttural sigh escaping the creature's mouth, pulling away at the clothes wrapped around the head, frozen fog coating the air expelled.

"Here… I… Am…" speaking each word carefully, the being that had just dropped through the ceiling and crashed against the floor was none other than the one who stalked the undead army in the mountains since the very first day of their arrival, they had once sent it running with a mere volley of projectiles heated to incandescence, but right now, he had just enduring a much harsher and compressed volley with nothing, he had just stood in the way, no arms had been risen in defence.