For once, he stepped across the snow without hesitation. His legs didn't tremble––his stomach didn't churn. Because today, no Shadowborn would fall. Not if he could help it.

With mountains rising on both sides, leaving only a valley to pass through, Colborn peered ahead across the darkened ground. There was no time to waste, so their skulk set out immediately. They had to stop this war as quickly as they could. Only now, something else stood in his way beside the biting wind and rain.

A line of foxes quickly formed a barrier across the gap. Surely they'd been alarmed by the mass of crimson foxes creeping closer. Colborn slowed his trot to a walk. A single tod bravely stepped forward to meet him.

The white-furred fox's hackles bristled. He glanced back at his army with a telling look of fear. He knew they were outnumbered. It was hard not to be when Colborn had nearly all of Muspell behind him. This was more than just an army, it was his family.

Aggression presented itself in bared jaws, warning Colborn not to come any closer. He stopped several feet in front of the fox. It was strange, seeing a Shadowborn commander for the first time––without knowing that he'd be the last face they saw before they died.

He cleared his throat. "We come in peace, in behalf of all the Flame Skulk."

The tod glared, another growl rising in his throat.

Colborn lowered his tail and muzzle, a sign of submission. "My father is dead," he told him. "I now lead. And we will fight no more."

Finally, something other than a growl emerged from the fox. A scoff. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Shaking his muzzle, Colborn pressed his belly against the snow. He rolled over, baring the tender part of his throat and stomach. It garnered strange glances from both skulks. "It isn't. I want peace. And if you must kill me as reparations for your brethren, then do so. An offering, so long as you let my second in command speak to your queen." Colborn closed his eyes, expecting the fiery-tongued fox to tear out his throat.

Instead, he heard muttering. He looked up to find the commander conferring with his army. He turned on his paws.

"That won't be necessary, Flameborn," he spat the word. "Not if you mean the words you say. We will grant you an audience with the queen, but the rest must stay here." The tod nodded to Colborn's rallied forces, and he dipped his nose in understanding.

"I accept. Lead me to the queen."

The white-furred forces parted to let the crimson fox pass, like a single drop of blood against the snow. All the while, the sky thundered on above him. The rain had ceased to pelt his body, but lights still flashed across the sky––and the strange colors remained.

He took after the silver-furred commander and a couple soldiers who led the way. According to Sylfr, the queen was a little preoccupied with their own battle against the Leafborn. Peace from the Flame Skulk would change everything.

Colborn wasn't so sure. He'd escaped the pull of power, a lust for blood and glory. It was up to each skulk to do the same.

A storm was brewing; he only hoped he could stop it in time.

–❈–

Everything was dark. Skadi trudged along, shoved from behind by Karina. She could tell from the shrill groans that emerged every so often.

Her face still stung from the queen's claws. Her eye burned with a liquid fire, and she wished that the vixen would've had enough mercy to just tear it from the socket. Instead, she left her with another scar. At least Skadi would never see it.

She heard everything. She'd spent years honing her hearing, knowing that one day that her vision would fade on its own anyway. And now, they arrived at that moment. Where she heard the queen stop in her tracks, and she felt the ground shift into stone beneath her paws. They were on the land bridge now. It was about time. Her legs ached from walking.

"Don't slow down now," a deeper voice called. That of Kleng. "We're almost there!"

The footfalls of a small group of soldiers shuffled onward behind her. It was hard to tell how many through the howl of the wind, tunneled into stronger gusts by the walls of the fjord surrounding them on either side. It echoed through the valley––hummed beneath Skadi's paws.

They hadn't made it very far across the valley, not when a growl even more booming than the thunder rang out.

"How convenient to find you here."

Suddenly, a hundred more pounding paws joined the cacophony. Skadi recognized the gravelly tone from anywhere. The Leafborn elder.

A gasp emerged. It was the queen's heavy breath. Skadi could hear her heart pounding and her paws pacing back and forth.

"We're surrounded," she whispered in despair. Her tone soured. "What is this, Skadi? You led us into a trap?"

Skadi shook her muzzle, unsure that she was even facing the queen. "N–no," she sputtered. "I don't know what's happening."

And she truly didn't. Even if Trygve had time to go back and warn the elders of their plan, they wouldn't have had time to arrange an ambush. He was supposed to stop them from coming here at all. But she didn't hear Tree anywhere.

"Your daughter had nothing to do with it," the tod said. "This was all me, old friend––Laine," he corrected himself. "It's been a long time."

Skadi felt her legs grow weak. Not only from the thought that this would be where they died, shoved over a cliff and into the raging sea below, but more from the cryptic words he spoke.

The statement was ignored––instead, a snarl filled the vixen's muzzle. "Attack!"

It all happened so quickly. The clashing of claws and teeth rang in her ears. She could picture the Shadowborn and the Leafborn intermingled, a battle to be remembered for the ages. Because hardly did the Leaf Skulk know how to fight––but this elder was crafty, and he came prepared. The small group of royals was outnumbered anyway; the Shadowborn's main forces were headed toward the rocky border where they thought the real battle would take place.

Forced backward by a sudden blow, Skadi lost her footing. She collapsed on the ground. Sharp claws entered her flesh, and a warm, growling muzzle grew ever closer to her throat. The snarled whisper tickled her ear. "You will die, lowly Shadowborn."

Then, the weight released her. Skadi scrambled to her paws, careful not to run too far when she didn't know where the edges of the ground were. A heavy paw landed on hers, stopping her in her tracks.

"This way," it whispered. She was surprised to hear the soft tone of her sister. Had Karina really saved her?

"Wait." Skadi barked gently. "Thank you." She dipped her muzzle. There wasn't much time to exchange words, not with a battle raging around them, but there was one thing she had to say. "I know we've had our differences. But I need your help." She centered her nose in the direction of the labored pants that came from Karina. "We have to stop this. Sister."

A hum filled her ears. "I know." Then her sharp shoulder shoved Skadi forward. "Mor is hiding something. Everything about this... it's wrong. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

–❈–

When he opened his eyes, it was still dark. He leapt to his paws, desperate to figure out where he was––what had happened. And then he landed, yelping as he became painfully aware of the break in his leg.

"Tree, you're awake!"

Trygve spun around, hopping on three limbs. Behind him sat a tan-pelt, only lit by the tiny sliver of moonlight that entered the den.

"Dagny!" he called, rushing forward to embrace her even as his leg was in agony. He pulled back, once more scanning where they found themselves. "Where are we? We have to get out of here! We have to help––"

"We can't go anywhere," she said, shushing him. "This is a holding den. And your stupid idol has two foxes guarding the entrance."

Trygve growled. Ormr wasn't his idol––he regretted ever letting him be. Now, he was only a fox he failed to see the danger of until it was too late. But they had to get out of here, because Skadi was likely dying out there on some battlefield. If she wasn't already dead. There was no telling what the queen had done to punish her for betraying her skulk. He pushed the image out of his mind.

Even without her, there was a war to stop.

There wasn't much he could do. He tried reasoning with the guards to no avail. They'd been convinced that the foxes they guarded were dangerous criminals guilty of treason. The minutes dragged by as thunder crashed outside. Trygve knew he was wasting precious time.

"Prisoners," the voice from the top of the tunnel called. "There's someone here to visit."

He perked his ears, watching the two dark-furred guards escort a group of foxes into the den. At the front of them, there was a limping vixen. Her ribs showed through her sides, and every breath was labored with exhaustion.

Trygve rushed forward to nuzzle his grandmother. "Beste!" He pulled back to meet her eyes. "I thought you were..." His voice trailed off with a tremble. "You shouldn't be here, you're sick."

Beste laughed. "You won't be rid of me that easily."

With another wide grin, he licked her muzzle. A surge of guilt weighed down his stomach. "Beste, there's something you have to know," he muttered. "About Ormr. About being sick––"

She shushed him, smiling with a knowing glance. "Not the place, Trygve. You've got more pressing matters to attend to, like stopping him."

His brows furrowed, and his eyes shifted past her to where his parents and siblings sat, each with a grin of their own. At Beste's nod, his father and brother leapt into action. The guards that flanked them fell, pinned by his family's paws.

"Go, Tree," a voice shouted––Steinar's. A glow of determination lit up his eyes. Even if he would never voice it in words, Trygve knew that there was a thread of respect in his annoyed gaze, for his brother that had become such a rebel. That he was off to do something bigger than hunting, bigger than the whole of the Leaf Skulk. His father smiled with a similar, more caring, pride.

Before he could take off, two warm muzzles wrapped over his shoulders. He met his mother's teary eyes, and he heard Abellona hum in approval. "I never thought I'd see the day where Tree was getting into trouble," she said sarcastically. Trygve nuzzled her, pressing his head into her fur to hide his eye-roll.

"Be careful." His mother's voice tugged at his heart, tempting tears to form. He nodded, licking her on the nose a final time.

"I will." He bounded to the entrance of the den, Dangy on his tail, before he turned back to grin at his family. He could do this––had to try at least, to save Eventyr from falling at Ormr's power-hungry claws. For them. All of them.