Despite the late hour, the moonlight glittered off the thick snow, reflecting its light and making the world visible for miles between the bare tree branches and needles of the trees that thrived in winter. Which also meant that Thea could be easily spotted between them if her captors came after her above ground.
	She wove her way through the trees as quickly as her wary body allowed, each step awkward. She tripped a few times when she caught the edge of the cloak with the too-large boots or encountered an unexpected obstacle hidden by the snow, thankful for the times when she just managed to stay upright with the aid of a nearby tree.
	Her body ached. Her left arm protested at even the simple action of drawing the cloak closed around her to stave off the bitter cold. Her right side screamed in protest. Yet, she forced herself onward, legs begging for rest. The chill of the night bit at the exposed skin of her face despite the cloak’s hood, and turned each exhale into a puff of vapor.
	When at last she found an animal path, she hesitated; though deer and rabbit tracks mingled among the packed snow, there was one set fresher than the rest formed by the padded paws of wolves.
	Thea took a deep breath. She would have to watch out for more than one kind of wolf in these woods. Freeing a thick, fallen branch from the snow, she began to use it as a walking staff, her grip on it tight and ready to use it as a weapon if needbe.
	The going was slow. What felt like hours later, the animal path met what looked like a main road, the snow packed down by carts, horses, and the feet of other travelers.
	Thea hesitated, before stepping onto it, keeping close to the trees. The bare limbs turned into more furs and pines, any of which she could use for cover if she caught even a whisper of a hint the Sages’ men were near.
	When the moon had set and the first light of dawn turned the clouds overhead into a sea of light gray, the road ahead of her split.
	She scowled. The mysterious guard had failed to mention a fork in the road. She looked down both paths, debating on which one to take. She consulted the compass, but even it gave little insight. Either path could bend to lead into town.
	Thinking the right-hand path looked more promising, the left leading to what looked like a frozen lake in the distance, she limped onward. 
	The gray had begun to turn into the brilliant red streaks of dawn. She glanced up, but quickly looked away, the intensity of even those searing through her eyes. She could not remember the last time she had seen daylight. But even in that faint light, she saw no signs of a town, and she doubted she could go much further. 
	Her vision blurred from pain, lack of sleep, and over exhaustion, she took another step, and her legs buckled beneath her. She fell to her knees, her grip on the staff the only thing keeping her from fully meeting the ground. 
	She scrunched her eyes shut and bent her head for a moment before opening them. Between the opening in her cloak, she saw a dark patch fresh blood soaking the right side of her filthy nightdress.
	She let out a shaky exhale. She had done too much, too soon. Her body had only just begun to adapt to the newest plates moving with and pulling at the skin around them. There was no telling what kind of damage lurked beneath the fabric.
	A bark echoed behind her, and her heart skipped a few beats.
	With a gasp, she hurried to her feet as quickly as she could, pulling herself up with both hands on her branch-turned-staff.
	She spun around, her cloak flaring open. She scanned the trees as she raised the branch in both hands, unsure if she would rather the bark to have been from a wild dog, or ones the Sages had brought in to sniff her out.
	She inhaled sharply through her nose when a massive gray and black wolf stalked from the trees, a snarl pulling at its long mouth and a rabid gleam in its golden eyes. She dared to glance once behind it, wondering if there were more to follow, before focusing on the wild dog. She locked gazes with it and tried to make herself look as large as possible, spreading out her cloak as well as she could without compromising her hold on the stick.
	“Get away, you foul beast!” she shouted, trying to scare it off.
	She took a couple slow steps back as the beast came forward, careful to keep from tripping on the hem of the cloak, but froze. As she watched, ice crystals burst to life around the wolf and beaded in his fur, making his form glisten like the snow around him.
	“[i]What?[/i]” she breathed, her hands trembling slightly.
	Something about this felt eerily familiar. For a split second she tried to delve deeper into the thought, but her head started to throb, and she had an eminent threat to deal with. She swallowed, hard, and steadied her grip on the sick.
	“Off with you!” she yelled, swinging the stick through the air. She turned a grimace at the pain that raked her side from the action into a snarl.