Silence.
The wind shrieked. The snow fell harder. And the children, one by one, climbed out of the wrecked wagon, guided by fear, desperation, and a shred of hope they didn’t dare name.
Buck stamped his hooves, impatient but ready. And Silas, for the first time in years, felt something like a purpose settle in his chest.
Not a clean, easy purpose. Not a life he had planned. But a purpose all the same: keep them alive.
No matter the cost.