The snow held its breath.
No hiss. No drift. The ridge above wore its shawl of cloud without moving. In the space the wind left behind, heat began to think about existing.
Keahi stepped forward.
She rolled her right shoulder once - the armored one - and reached back. The blade rested on her back, bandage-wrapped because no sheath had ever survived the heat
Her fingers found the grip. She drew.
Cloth whispered. Then the bandages let go all at once, curling through the air like ribbons, fire already hesitating to leave the edge of the blade.
"Stay back" she said, nothing else.
Four shapes slid from the trees as if the trunks had decided to grow predators.
A feline Nyx, low and plated, all grace and claws.
A tall one that shifted its forearms from slab to blade like a weaponsmith that can't decide what tool to use.
A compact thing, behind, almost hiding.
And the fourth - too still - thin and human-shaped. Head tilted. Studying Keahi's stance.
