CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a laborious trek.
The journey wasn’t a problem for the ictharrs and Corsair knew it especially wasn’t a problem for Quickpaw. As rider and beast, the duo had both endured long runs through the woods and even longer training sessions during the day. This was no shock to them.
But, unlike the adrenaline rush of weaving between the trees and making sharp turns every few metres, it was boring.
An hour had passed by. Conversation died between all members of the group, leaving the herd with only the sound of snow crunching beneath the ictharrs’ paws. A trail of pawprints stretched out behind them for miles, the snowfall too light to conceal them quickly.
He glanced to his left. He was greeted by a view of the trees for the hundredth time, mounds of snow holding position
