Winter's frost and snow blanketed the low valley, turning it into a crystalline ice maze. In that endless white world, a smear of gray-black appeared out of nowhere—on closer look, it was a cluster of huge wooden structures.
Freljord architecture was simple and brutal. Your first impression was big—massive. Your second was rough—sloppy and crude. Standing here, Logan and Jinx had the strange feeling they'd walked straight back into the Stone Age.
Honestly, even old Zaun looked better than this in a lot of places. The people here were truly poor.
"We're here!" Donna called out.
Up ahead, she greeted a group of Winter's Claw warriors. They were working near the mouth of the low canyon, chiseling and grinding at something that looked like ice sculptures. Jinx wandered closer and realized they were sharpening weapons.
Metal axes scraped against frozen earth, and Jinx watched with bright, fascinated eyes.
Jinx loved anything new to her—even if it was old and backwards. Besides, Zaun's little disaster wasn't best at turning advanced tech into weapons.
Her real gift was taking a pile of junk nobody wanted and turning it into something deadly.
So in fur-lined boots and long strides, she walked right up under the warriors' watchful stares like she owned the place.
Those frost-caked stares weren't hostile. Donna had brought Logan and Jinx in, so no one suspected the two strangers.
And that alone said a lot about Donna's status inside Winter's Claw.
Which wasn't surprising. Donna was young, but she was an Iceborn—and between the giant weapon on her back and her resistance to the cold, it was obvious her Iceborn blood ran strong.
Not to mention… she was a woman.
In the Freljord, women held far higher status than men. This land was largely matriarchal—leaders and elder-priests were usually women. In recent years there had been smaller tribes led by powerful men, but overall, women still stood above.
"We're going this way," Donna said after asking the warriors a few things and returning to Logan.
"It's late, but…" She hesitated, then added, "you still need to meet our warmother first. I'll lead you. Don't worry—I already had hot meat broth arranged."
"Wait," Logan asked instead. "What happened to the food you took from John?"
As soon as Logan entered the valley, he'd noticed it: the people here had the same unhealthy pallor Donna did. Dry skin. Arms that looked like the flesh was glued to the bone. Sharp elbows and hollow cheeks.
"The food?" Donna blinked, then smiled—clearly happy about it. "That food won't be brought here. It was sent straight to several detachments."
She explained, "Winter's Claw is huge. If we gathered everyone in one place, the nearby food wouldn't be enough to keep us alive."
"So the warmother leads the largest group, and the rest are scattered across the Freljord. Food isn't distributed from one central stockpile. Each detachment has the right to store its own supplies—because they have to survive the winter too."
"Like the warriors you saw a few days ago—they were a detachment. Eventually, that detachment will be under my command. Not yet, though. I'm still learning at the warmother's side—learning how to be a real leader."
Donna dumped Winter's Claw's current situation in one breath.
After hearing it, Logan nodded.
That made things simple. He could have Janna send word, have Silco organize supplies, then airlift everything in on Hextech airships.
This place was perfect for drops, too. Deep snow was a natural cushion—just dump the crates and let the snow do the rest.
With that thought, Logan took Jinx along and followed Donna into the heart of Winter's Claw.
And the moment he stepped in, his opinion shifted immediately.
Before, he'd thought Winter's Claw was simply poor and backwards. But once he reached the tribe's core, that impression changed.
How to put it…
A wave of primal savagery hit him in the face.
The buildings were still crude, but the materials weren't ordinary anymore.
Massive beast tusks framed doorways. Giant tendons and bones served like support beams. Between the structures, bonfires burned taller than a person—six feet high—while Winter's Claw warriors gathered to prepare dinner. Even from far away, their presence felt dangerous.
They looked exactly like a pack of beasts. The wildness here was impossible to miss.
Logan watched them. They watched Logan and Jinx.
"Hey, Donna—why'd you bring two kids back?"
"Look at that guy—holy hell, he's skinny. I swear I could snap his arm like a twig!"
"Hey, you—hat girl dressed like a bear—aren't you roasting under all that?"
"Go screw yourself!" Jinx snapped back.
Hundreds of Winter's Claw warriors had gathered, but Jinx didn't flinch. Someone mocked her, so she turned around, flipped them off, and yelled it out loud.
"Mean as hell! I like her!"
"Donna, where'd you get these two?"
"Donna!"
"Shut your mouths!" Donna threw her head back and roared at them, her face full of anger. "These two are the warmother's guests—honored guests of Winter's Claw!"
"If you keep running your mouths, I'll report every word of it to the warmother!" Donna threatened, shaking her fist.
The warriors only answered with mocking grins.
These two were clearly outsiders. Their warmother had grown up in the far north—where would she even meet outsiders?
Still, no one kept pushing it. Even if the two weren't truly "important," the fact that Donna was taking them to see the warmother proved they weren't dragged back as prisoners.
"Come on," Donna said apologetically to Logan.
Those idiots. If they knew Logan was a man who could bring dozens of tons of food to the tribe, they'd probably drop to their knees and start bowing on the spot.
Winter's Claw warriors were savage, but that didn't mean they were cold-blooded. If anything, it was the opposite—beastly on the outside, deeply human on the inside.
Every winter, Winter's Claw set aside food for the elderly and the children so they could survive. The warriors would reduce their own portions instead.
The elders never wanted to drag the tribe down. There had even been times when groups of elders spoke up together, saying they were willing to sacrifice themselves—that the warriors' bodies mattered most. Sejuani refused every time. She even led by example, eating less herself. And once the warmother took a stance, the tribe followed.
Following Donna, Logan and Jinx stopped in front of a massive "animal corpse"—and Jinx's jaw nearly hit the floor.
"You're sure your warmother lives in something like this?" she asked Donna in a suspicious whisper.
Donna looked at the structure and nodded. "It's a mammoth carcass. The white you're seeing is ice-bear fur. And the wind curtain is snow-wolf hide. Our warmother lives here."
Jinx tugged Logan's arm.
Logan leaned down until his cheek was near hers, and Jinx whispered excitedly, "Logan—if you shipped this stuff back to Piltover, the rich would pay insane money for it. If it got processed properly, it'd be perfect high-end craftwork."
"This warmother is basically living inside a gold mine—"
Jinx didn't finish, because Logan suddenly lifted his head.
His gaze slid past Donna and into the half-buried lodge.
A chubby silhouette stepped out, then lifted the curtain.
"Donna. Bring the guests inside. The warmother is waiting for you," the man said.
Facing the bear-shaped, heavyset man, Donna's expression turned respectful. She gave a small bow without asking why he didn't question her. Because this man was the tribe's shaman—and the warmother's most trusted person.
He was Udyr—once one of Sejuani's oathfathers, and now the only father she had left.
Donna lifted the wind curtain. Logan and Jinx stepped inside.
The lodge was bright. Along both sides, "bone pillars" held oil-soaked torches, providing light.
Boots on colorful animal pelts, Logan's eyes went to the very front—where a woman sat on a throne.
She wore a thin black, tight-fitting outfit, her muscle clearly visible—obvious, but not ugly. Below was a pair of wide black pants. Seated high, she leaned forward with one elbow propped on the throne, fingers idly touching her cheek as she watched Logan and Jinx.
Her lean face had hard lines and a cold edge. Logan had met all kinds of women over the years, but among everyone he'd seen, Sejuani was the most heroic-looking—the most feral.
Vi, Akali, even Irelia… none of them could match Sejuani's sheer wild presence.
And her aura—Sejuani's aura felt even larger than Swain's.
Her ice-blue eyes carried something almost divine, heavy with authority. Her eyes were long at the corners but not small, her nose sharp like a blade, and her lips were thin and striking—defined, neat, and small. With her mouth closed, those thin lips made her look distant, like she wanted strangers to stay far away.
But her skin color ruined the effect—so pale it had a bluish cast. Especially her lips, tinged with an unhealthy purple.
"Where are you from?" Sejuani rose from the throne.
When Donna returned to the tribe earlier, warriors had already reported what happened.
Donna was favored and being trained, but she didn't have the authority to bring strangers to Sejuani on her own. The moment she got back, she sent word up the chain.
Sejuani had been drowning in tribe problems. She didn't have time for outsiders.
But Udyr had stopped her—sternly—telling her not to underestimate people from beyond the Freljord, especially the man among them.
So Sejuani agreed to meet them.
And now, looking at two people shorter than her, bundled up in heavy clothing, thin as winter weeds… confusion flickered across her ice-blue eyes.
Was Udyr overthinking this?
Why was she wasting time on someone like this?
"Warmother," Donna shouted, "Logan and Jinx are from Zaun. They're here at Noxus's request to negotiate business with Winter's Claw."
She wanted credit for this.
Sejuani looked at Donna and asked flatly, "Business. With me."
"Warmother, warmother—listen—" Donna heard that tone and immediately understood Sejuani's attitude. She hurried forward while speaking.
When she reached Sejuani, she rose on her toes and whispered into Sejuani's ear.
Sejuani's expression changed instantly.
Shock flashed through her beautiful eyes. Her mouth opened into a small "o," and for a heartbeat, that fierce, heroic face looked almost… cute.
Donna finished and stepped back.
"Everything Donna said is true?" Sejuani asked, planting one hand on her hip as she stared at Logan. "You want to trade food for Noxians? One Noxian for one hundred pounds of food?"
"Yes," Logan said. "One Noxian, one hundred pounds. And for their commander, we'll pay much more."
"What kind of food?" Sejuani demanded, wary. "Rotten leftovers you don't want—food that sat in storage until it stank?"
As she spoke, she walked toward Logan.
When she reached him, Sejuani lowered her head and looked down at him from above.
Sejuani was tall—really tall. Logan wasn't short at all. Back in Zaun he was already the "big guy" type.
But standing in front of Sejuani, he looked noticeably smaller. Maybe that was just how it went up here—Freljordians were built different, and Sejuani was tall even by a man's standards.
She had to be around six-three.
"Fresh meat," Logan said without flinching, meeting her gaze with a smile. "Fish, lamb, beef. Some fruit too. Grain and vegetables won't be lacking."
"Let me introduce myself," he added. "Sejuani, my name is Logan. I'm from Zaun. I'm Zaun's ruler."
"And are you going to let me sit down and talk properly?" he asked.
"…"
Sejuani studied him for a moment, then said quietly, "Donna. Bring a stool."
"Yes!" Donna dashed to a corner of the lodge.
"Come," Sejuani said, walking to the central bonfire and sitting down on the ground. She crossed her long legs and looked straight at Logan. "Zaun's ruler—let's talk."
"How you plan to take those people, and how you plan to get the food here."
"But understand this," she said coldly. "I don't see the food, I don't release anyone."
"Even if Udyr says you're dangerous."
Her eyes stayed icy as she shifted position—one long leg laid across in front of her, the other raised, a boot planted on the ground. Her long, strong hand rested open on her knee, calm and steady as she watched Logan.
Donna handed Logan the stool. Logan took it, and he and Jinx sat down opposite Sejuani.
"I'm here to do business, Sejuani," Logan said.
Yeah.
If you could talk, why fight?
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