The first snow did not settle.
It touched Grimridge's roofs, turned the yard pale for an hour, then melted into dark stone and colder wind, leaving behind the kind of weather that made everyone think the real storm was still somewhere farther off. That was the problem with first snow. It looked small. It sounded harmless. Yet once it arrived, every wolf who understood winter also understood that the season had changed. Roads would close soon. Scent would carry differently. Old paths would vanish under white. Anything being prepared for deep winter had just become urgent.
Cassian moved like a man who understood that better than anyone.
