Ardan turned. Caught his eye. Gave a short nod. No words. Just a good, nod.
Lindarion gave a half shrug.
'I'm not frozen, so that counts.'
The sword still leaned against the stone beside his pack. Wrapped, untouched. His hand hovered near it for a second before he picked up the bag instead.
Fingers stiff.
But not shaking.
Not anymore.
He slung it over his shoulder and looked at the others again.
"Do we keep moving?"
Lira stood.
Ren groaned.
Meren made a sound that might have been a yes or a complaint.
Ardan already had his gloves on.
Lira pulled her hood up and looked to the path beyond the ridge.
"The next stretch is narrower. Steeper."
Ren sat up. "So basically worse."
"Basically," Lira said.
Meren grunted and dragged himself upright.
Lindarion turned once to glance out beyond the overhang. The snow had lessened. Still falling, but lighter now. The kind that floated sideways, aimless, not urgent.
He breathed in.
Still cold.
But tolerable.
