Caitlyn’s POV
The snow here didn’t fall like it had anywhere else. It wasn’t soft or clean or even snow, really. It looked like ash scraped from the bottom of a ruined hearth, grey and brittle underfoot. Every step left a smear, not a print. Trees stretched out like petrified bones, leafless and dry, their branches twisted into shapes that suggested screaming if you looked too long.
No birds. No tracks. No sound beyond the weary clatter of wheels and boots and the occasional rusted creak from one of the supply carts. Whatever lived here had died a long time ago. And what remained didn’t bother pretending.
I kept to the front of the group, just behind Rael. His movements stayed smooth, careful, like he didn’t want to startle the silence around us. The others lagged farther behind. Not be
