Nighttime.
The Tundra's frigid wind howled, rampaging unopposed across the vast expanse. It was a bone-chilling cold, crashing against everything in successive waves, like a tide.
It whipped up the accumulated snow into misty plumes that danced like ghosts under the glow of the aurora.
The tent, protected by a windbreak, was shielded from the wind's assault.
Inside, the stove fire cast an orange-red glow. The light danced upon the tent's inner walls, throwing flickering shadows.
Prince and Princess lay beside the sleeping bags, their furry bodies like two natural hot water bottles, providing extra warmth for Feng Shan and Nash.
A warm aura permeated the small space, a stark contrast to the howling wind outside.
Feng Shan stared quietly at the roof of the tent, his thoughts drifting to Crown Territory.
Through his connection with the tribe's Fire Seed, everything in Crown Territory unfolded in his mind.
