Snowstorms & other Magicks. (5)

The air was heavy with the scent of blood, smoke and burning flesh. The bonfires crackled, consuming the remains of the creatures we had slain. Their grotesque forms were no longer visible, gradually turning into nothing but remnants of ash, but the scent was still strong. We left it as a warning to any others that might come.

Alaric's gaze was sharp, scanning the dark treeline for any sign of movement. The faint cries of more creatures echoed in the distance. Whatever these beasts were, someone had woken them, and there was no doubt in my mind they would come after us.

"We can't stay here," Alaric said, his voice low but firm. "They'll be on us before we know it. We need to run."

I glanced back at the pyres, the flames licking at the night sky. The bodies of our fallen comrades lay where they had fallen, their sacrifices etched into the snow in streaks of crimson. My heart clenched painfully with guilt. We had to leave their bodies behind like this-