30
Mara
She’d filled twelve scrolls as they journeyed up the glacier. Eight days they’d walked since burying Smitter in the snow.
The white will drive me to madness. Not the grief, not the pain. The white itself will end us all.
The crunch of the others following her kept Mara moving forward one step at a time, chasing the dogs who pulled the supply sleds but never seemed to tire even with their burden.
Kegan mushed the first sled, while the rest of them took it in turns to run the second.
Not run. None of us have the strength to run.
The snowshoes on her feet added effort to every step. The shoes were better than sinking into the snow pack, but Mara longed for unfrozen ground. She forced her gaze up to study every angle of the mountains they’d spent days passing between.
We should
