Vune never really cared much for the cold. It is an unescapable companion in the Southern Icefield, seeping beneath armor and scales to numb her muscles and her mind. Only the heat of the battle could ever make her forget that damnable chill during the precious lapse of time which her comrades baptized "the soldier's minute".

She lived for it, they all did. Those 60 seconds in which they were stripped of reason and individuality until there was only the struggle and eventually victory or death. It drove them like an addiction, the next contract, the next skirmish, the next wasteful party that would burn up everything they had just earned.

Yeah... they were damaged, the lot of them. The remnants of an old bitter war still clung to their hides like the never-ending fall of snowflakes. The life they chose wasn't a happy one but it was certainly distracting and every distraction was precious when idleness led their minds into the realm of self-destruction. They forged their alliance on the promise to keep this lifestyle going for as long as they could, no matter who fell along the way they would carve their names in History as the most fearsome band of sell-swords in all of Sornieth.

It's too bad that promises are idealistic and the world is far from ideal.

They were set up with a bad contract from an enemy from the past... maybe they deserved to fall in the end for growing so careless and greedy. At least they went down as they lived, on their feet and fighting. Vune laughed sadly as she was struck down and as the world faded to black her eyes drifted over the lifeless bodies of her long-time brothers-in-arms, a family carved of something stronger than blood.

She was proud to die by their side...

Oblivion didn't feel as she had expected... in fact she had hoped that it didn't feel like anything at all. There were voices, a mild awareness of being dragged accross an irregular surface and ever-present pain dulled as if occurring in a dream. What sensation she could recall with absolute clarity was the cold, so excrusiating and relentless that she pleaded, maybe out-loud, for her body to be burned so she could at least feel some warmth in the next-life.

She didn't receive such a mercy and as her limp shape was tossed into the raging sea shards of cruel ice buried deeply inside her throat and chest. That was when the darkness finally took her and perhaps for a time she tasted the silent embrace of death for real while her body drifted taken by the violent currents of the vast sea.

"By the Filthy Mother I think she is still breathing." Said Zarola in disbelief as she sniffed at the large Imperial's paws.

Bane huffed and coiled her long serpentine neck. "The wretched thing must have fallen prey to the Reedcleft's rapids and the current finally brought her here." Such an assumption was thrown dismissively, the banescale's urgency to leave and return to the Clan clear through the tension of her frame.

"Nu-hu, I don't think so. She is from the Ice and look, these wounds look like blade cuts."

"Yeah whatever. Not our problem. You know how high tensions are running right now, those snow-eaters must be fighting amongst themselves or something."

"Aren't you even a little bit curious?"

"No-"

"But we can't leave her here!"

"Yes we can"

"Maybe Morbae can still save her."

The Bane snarled in dissaproval for that idea and the mirror fanned her crests, holding her ground. Bane already knew that when her collegue made up her mind about one of her silly ideas there was no changing her decision without a brawl.

"Fine! I'll go get the Matriarch and see what she has to say about this. Don't you come crying to me if she decides to beat you up for it." The words were bitterly spat before the wyvern took off as fast as a lightning and as furious as a thunder.

Finally alone the mirror walked around to the titan's head where she could hear the weakest whisper of a breath. "You must be a fighter huh? Matriarch Artemisa will like that, just hang in there."

"itzzz warm out here..."

"What was that? Hey, can you hear me?" Zaola swore she had just seen the imperial's lips move the slightest bit.

"I feel so warm." Barely a murmur but this time the mirror caught the words and their meaning.

"Yeah- sorry, the Wasteland is pretty dang scorching all year round."

Lips that hadn't genuinely smiled for the longest time curled up into a pained but satisfied grin. "Good."