The moment Emily's fireflies dipped low enough for them to dismount, the wind and snow crashed into them like a wall.
Shards of ice that were carried through the air stung, even through their thick jackets.
Aren's boots hit the ground first, sinking slightly into the thick layer of snow beneath him. The cold bit instantly, seeping through the fabric—a far harsher cold than anything he'd ever felt before.
Visibility was even worse. All he could see was an endless white in all directions, blending everything together until even walking straight was uncertain.
Marcus was just barely up and able to walk while Luna was completely out cold. Aren just managed to strap her on his back, making sure the harness was secured before he looked back to check on her.
Her already pale face was becoming even weaker, and her skin was cold to the touch, even before setting foot here.
Is it really alright for Luna to be here?
