Gwen slowly detached herself from the fierce, protective perimeter of the embrace. The rough, thick fabric of Kaelen's winter traveling cloak brushed against her cold skin as she pulled away, leaving a lingering trace of his raw, comforting warmth. Her breathing was still shallow, catching rhythmically in her chest from the residual, suffocating panic of the mountain hunt. She raised her left hand, her tattered linen sleeve wet with dark soot, and gently wiped the hot, freezing tears from her cheeks.
The physical exhaustion was a heavy, overwhelming anchor dragging at her shoulders, making every movement a deliberate struggle against the gravity of the valley. Yet, her eyes were wide and burning with a clean, unyielding sovereign fire as she turned her entire focus toward the center of the clearing, where the Lunar Well lay embedded in the earth like an open wound in the snow.
