The biting north wind swept up fine snowflakes, slicing across the empty grassland like a knife and emitting a shrill wail.
A thick layer of white frost coated the withered yellow stems, stretching all the way to the undulating hills under the leaden sky.
This was the northwestern periphery of the Golden Wolf Tribe's sphere of influence, adjacent to the traditional pastures of the Helian Tribe. Ordinarily a prosperous land teeming with cattle and sheep, it now lay in deathly silence, broken only by the howling cold wind.
Chapter 296