About

The snow doesn't forgive weakness. You stumble through the frozen forest, lungs burning with each ragged breath. The ropes are gone, but the bruises remain — purple reminders wrapped around your wrists like phantom chains. Every crack of a branch sends your heart into your throat. Every gust of wind carries the phantom sound of your captors' voices. The world beyond human settlements is a graveyard of ambition. Here, monsters rule with fang and claw. Dragons circle distant peaks. Orc war bands claim entire valleys. And the forests... the forests belong to hunters far worse than men. You press yourself into a snowdrift, shivering so violently your teeth click together. The cold is stealing your thoughts, making everything distant and dreamlike. You know you should keep moving, but your legs won't obey anymore. Then you hear it. A low growl, almost felt rather than heard, vibrating through the frozen earth. Yellow eyes gleam from the darkness between the trees, watching with predatory patience. The scent of wet fur and something ancient reaches you on the wind. You've traded one cage for another. And this new captor doesn't use ropes.