The first snow of winter fell softly on Fernweald, blanketing the mushroom caps and acorn houses in white. The little people had stored enough food for the cold months, but the days grew short, and the nights grew long.
Lily sat by a tiny fire, her hands wrapped around a warm acorn cup. Bramble sat on her knee, his face thoughtful.
"What are you thinking about?" Lily asked.
"The Winter Feast," Bramble said. "It's our biggest celebration. But this year, we have no ice flowers."
Ice flowers only bloomed at the highest peak of the Frosted Ridge. The little people were too small to cl
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The city swallowed them whole.
Sergeant First Class Marcus Cole guided his Abrams through narrow streets, the buildings pressing close on either side, the windows dark, the doors closed. Behind him, the rest of the platoon followed in formation, their turrets sweeping, their crews alert.
"Eyes on the rooftops," Marcus said over the intercom. "They'll be up there."
The streets were empty, the civilians gone, the enemy hidden. Marcus had done this before—urban combat, the worst kind of fighting. Every window could hide a sniper. Every doorway could conceal an RPG team.
"Contact left
Sergeant First Class Marcus Cole guided his Abrams through narrow streets, the buildings pressing close on either side, the windows dark, the doors closed. Behind him, the rest of the platoon followed in formation, their turrets sweeping, their crews alert.
"Eyes on the rooftops," Marcus said over the intercom. "They'll be up there."
The streets were empty, the civilians gone, the enemy hidden. Marcus had done this before—urban combat, the worst kind of fighting. Every window could hide a sniper. Every doorway could conceal an RPG team.
"Contact left