Flakes of snow drifted down from the mist above, coating Alika’s black scruff in a paint of white. Four sets of pawprints trailed behind the group, speckled snow and trees stretched out before them.

The rules for keeping on the path were simple: stay on the oldest snow. If it was new and fresh, then that was where eruptions could fall, and sinkholes could pull it back underground to be renewed by the mountains once more. So long as they stayed away from fresh snow, where trees and plants managed to eek on a perilous existence, then they would be fine.

The rings were hidden behind the mists, and Yarik’s charts didn’t go any further than the mountains, but Koska had said that passage through would only take around fifteen days, and the four were nearing the end of that. Alika was glad — though none of them had gotten buried in an eruption or picked off by a monster yet, the mountains and the mist creeped her out.

The ground suddenly shook, and Alika tensed. Snow hid herself beneath one of Alika’s wings, while Gust rose into the air as the rumble got louder. Alika looked between the mountains flanking the pass, wondering which one was about to blow. Snow began to fall from the cliffs, sliding down until it hit the treeline.

Then, the mountain to the left roared. Water shot up and turned to ice and cold mist. As it did so, Tarka leaped into the air, flapping his wings as hard as he could. He flopped down into the snow as the ground settled, laughing and leaving behind a dragon-shaped indent.

“Alika, Snow, Gust! Did you see that?” Tarka grinned. “I jumped with the mountain this time!”

“I saw,” Alika murmured, trying to relax. One wrong step, if they strayed from the path, and they’d be sucked down beneath the snow — it would be one of their corpses that was thrown up with the eruptions. She hated how unstable the ground was here, and suddenly found herself missing the ice floes.

In the distance, a shrill screech burst through the mist. Alika shuddered. They’d been hearing that screech for the last few days. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it certainly wasn’t a dragon’s sound.

“Maybe we should retire for the night,” Alika suggested. “It’s getting late.”

None of them could see the sun through the growing mist, only its faint, scattered rays. The pass was lit only dimly, in a faint blue glow.

“It’s always late, and if it isn’t late, it’s early,” Snow grumbled. “Where’d you go, sun? I miss you!”

“I’ll go find a place to den,” Gust said. His body was shivering, and he seemed to be constantly twisting and coiling just to keep warm.

Gust took off, swimming through the air, his mane coated in white flakes. A moment later, and he’d disappeared in the mists.

“Wow, look at him go,” Snow commented. “Hey Alika, don’t you wish you could do that?”

Alika glared at her smaller companion.

“Just saying,” Snow continued. “And don’t say it’s because your wings are too small. I saw cubs smaller than you flapping around in the Summerlands. Do you just plan to live on the ground for the rest of your life?”

Out of the corner of Alika’s eye, Tarka was playing in the dirty snow, making patterns in it with his wings.

Alika pulled her own wings tight, in defiance. “I’m not risking a flight until we reach our pack, and definitely not here. It’s not like my flying would make Tarka walk any faster.”

Snow shrugged her tails. It was a few more minutes before Gust returned to the group, poking his head down from the mists.

“I found a nice ledge we can den under!” Gust explained. “Also, I didn’t see any mountains past these ones, and the mist is getting lighter. I’m pretty sure we’ll reach the end of the pass tomorrow!”

“Finally!” Snow sighed in relief. “I was worried we’d get stuck here forever!”

“Aww, but I just got my timing right!” Tarka huffed. He got up onto his paws, shaking snow off from his fur and all over Alika.

Though they couldn’t see it set, the sun was below the horizon by the time they reached the ledge, and the valley had grown dark and cold. The four crowded together under the ledge, protected from the snowfall. While it was night, the day had been short. It would be a while before they felt ready to sleep.

Alika’s wing brushed against Gust’s scaly side. She could feel him shivering, his teeth chattering.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said.

The figures of trees looked like giants in the dark mist as she set out beneath them. She dug through the snow, picking up fallen branches and pine needles, stuffing them under her wings or in her jaws. She’d smell the pine sap on her fur for ages now, she was sure.

Once she’d gathered enough, she lumbered back over to the ledge, and began pressing down the snow beneath her paws, pushing away anything light and flakey. She layered the branches and needles over it next, and placed her snout down to the wood pile.

A small cone of flame came out from her jaws, the bright orange of it lighting up the night. Tarka, Snow, and Gust all clustered around her, curious.

Alika stopped. The branches had been scorched, but they hadn’t manage to catch alight — being under the snow had made them wet and waterlogged.

“Don’t worry,” Gust shivered. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not giving up on this,” Alika insisted. She breathed another puff of fire onto the branches, though again, they didn’t light. “Unlike the rest of us, you don’t have a hefty fur coat.”

A third time, and finally, the fire caught. At first it was just a small flame, pouring off steam and pine smoke, but it soon grew. The fire grasped ahold of the other branches, wreathing around them as it lit up the ledge.

Gust sighed, curling around the fire. Snow melted from his mane, water dripping down his scales. Tarka laid down next to him, and Alika took close watch to make sure that he didn’t singe his fur.

Alika stretched out her wings, catching the heat with them. She’d forgotten how good the warmth felt. She shook off water droplets as they melted.

While the three of them circled close to the fire, Snow stood at the edge of the light, her tails half-hidden in the mist. Once Alika was sure that the fire wouldn’t go out, she walked over to Snow. The fox had a scowl on her snout, and she gave Alika an ugly look as she approached.

“Something wrong?” Alika asked. “The fire’s warmer.”

Since they had entered the mountains, Snow had become more and more irritable, and had been keeping a bit of emotional distance between herself and the others. Now, that distance seemed like it was becoming a bit more literal.

“I’m angry,” Snow pouted, turning away from Alika. “At Yarik, and by extension, at you.”

Alika let out an exhale of warm breath, turning into mist before her. Apparently it was this again.

“Why?” Alika asked, trying not to sound too exasperated.

“For getting old and probably being dead by now!” Snow snapped.

“I’m not really sure that’s something Yarik can do much about,” Alika replied, maintaining her cool.

“And that’s what makes me so angry!” Snow whipped her tails against the ground, glaring up at Alika. “Maybe the rest of you mortals are okay with dying, but I’m not! You all don’t have to be around after it happens!”

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“I can assure you that us mortals aren’t okay with dying,” Alika muttered.

“Then Yarik should have tried to stop it!” Snow hissed, flashing her claws. “All of you should!”

Snow’s ears fell, and her anger dripped away into a sulky sadness.

“Do you know how many friends I had die?” Snow whimpered. “How many humans I met before I swore them off forever, and spent a century trying to avoid them? I could give you a hundred names, and I’d still probably be forgetting a few.

“And guess how many of them are still around today? Zero. Some of them died as I looked on, and could do nothing. Others grew while I stayed the same, changing into people I could no longer recognize, and chose to leave me instead. So tell me, what’s the point in staying around? Why should I care about anyone, when all I get is a broken heart and a list of long-forgotten names, just before they leave me forever?”

“Snow—” Alika started.

“And don’t tell me you won’t do the same!” Snow wailed. “Because you’ll do it too!”

Snow slammed her snout into the snow, filling her ears with it and drowning out Alika. Alika raised a paw, considering trying to pull her back out, but thought better of it. When Snow was like this, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. With another sigh, Alika turned away, returning to the fire.

While Snow had been talking to Alika, Tarka had pulled out Yarik’s instrument, plucking on its strings to create a melodic tune. Gust was singing along with it, speaking words in a language Alika didn’t know, but seemed to mirror the beauty of his voice, as if it was had been made for the song.

“Are you using your magic to help Tarka play?” Alika asked Gust, watching as her little brother’s claws ran dexterously over the strings.

“It’s all him,” Gust replied.

He stopped singing, and Tarka kept playing. While the tune was far from the mystic beauty of Gust’s songs, wasn’t bad — every so often, Tarka would slip up, but Alika was actually enjoying listening to him. She certainly couldn’t have done anything better herself, her claws were far too thick for the instrument.

“He’s gotten a lot better,” Alika acknowledged.

Tarka began strumming faster, the slow tune becoming complex and intricate, never repeating itself.

“You should join,” Gust suggested.

Alika laughed, swishing her tail. “I don’t have anything to play!”

“You can sing too!” Tarka said.

“Absolutely not,” Alika replied.

“In that case, you could try dancing,” Gust said.

“Dancing?” Alika asked.

Gust bobbed his head. “It’s like making music by moving your body, except it’s silent.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

“I’ll show you,” Gust replied. “Tarka, would you slow down a little, please?”

It took Tarka a few moments to finish his composition, but he eventually did so, returning back to a slow, repetitive melody. Gust began to hum along with it, stepping his paws to the snow in time with Tarka’s music.

Alika watched as Gust twisted and turned. His paws quickly left the ground, and his steps were suddenly in the air. As he twirled around the fire, his movement reminded Alika of eel in the water, or the way a leaf fluttering in the wind. There was a pattern with his steps in the sky, but his actual motion was turbulent, and she could never guess where he was going to go next.

“Now you try!” Gust suggested, reaching out his forepaws as he spiraled around Alika.

“Me?” Alika scoffed. “I can’t do that. Even if I could fly, I couldn’t do that!”

“Then you’ll just have to do it on the ground!” Gust’s whiskers rose, and he placed his talons to the ground. Alika watched as he scraped circles in the snow, deliberating a little on each’s location.

“What are you doing?” Alika asked.

“Get on your hindlegs and step from circle to circle,” Gust suggested. “Start at these two, and I’ll tell you when to step with Tarka’s beat.”

Alika was skeptical, but she did as Gust asked, getting up on her hindlegs. She wobbled a little, flexing her tail to balance herself out.

“I look silly like this,” she said.

Gust shook his head and grabbed Alika’s forepaws with his own, still floating.

“You look great,” he replied, with a toothy grin. “Don’t worry, okay? Now, I’ll pull you along, and you’ll step with me. Slowly.”

With great care, Alika raised her right hindleg from one circle to the next, flattening down the snow with her paw. Still unsure what she was supposed to be doing, she did the same with her left one, placing it into another circle. She kept doing that, shuffling and turning. She missed a few beats, and her timing wasn’t great, but eventually, she managed to make it back around to the first two circles.

“There, you did great!” Gust flicked his snout affirmatively. “We call this one ‘Yellowscale’s Twinstep.’ The story goes that for some reason, Yellowscale was hatched unable to fly, so he created this dance so he could dance with his mate anyways.”

“Okay,” Alika said. “So, now what?”

“We’re going to do it again, but now we’ll see if you can better time it with Tarka’s music.”

Alika did as Gust asked, repeating the same movements with her hindpaws. This time, Gust began to move with her — whenever she’d twist, he’d twirl around her, ribboning through the air, spiraling in circles as she spun.

“Now, this time, don’t stop when you reach the end, and repeat!” Gust said.

Alika didn’t, smoothly starting again. She was starting to remember where each of the circles were, and instead of watching her paws, she was able to watch Gust instead. His tail whipped as he moved, making patterns and figures with its tip.

“You’re getting it!” Gust grinned.

Alika was understanding now where she was going, stepping as Tarka strummed his strings. Her body swayed as Gust twirled her around, her wings bending from side to side as she turned.

“Hey Snow!” Alika called out, panting. “You should join us! It’s actually kind of fun!”

Alika heard the sound of a muffled “Go away!” from beneath the snow. Oh well.

Alika grabbed onto Gust’s claws tighter as they turned, the circles beneath her now fully forgotten. Her hindlegs stepped, Gust tugging her back and forth to maintain her balance. His whiskers brushed against Alika’s fur as they moved faster and faster.

Faster? It seemed like Tarka was speeding the music up.

Alika laughed as she pulled Gust through the air, the two of them lost in steps and flight, ground and sky momentarily brought together. She was having trouble moving this fast, her tongue lolling out of her jaws as she panted. She was getting dizzy, but Tarka showed no sign of slowing down. Instead, the music was just getting faster, and the two dragons with it.

“Tarka, no!” Alika giggled as Tarka broke out into improvised music, moving his claws as fast as he could. She suddenly misplaced a hindleg, accidentally putting it in front of the other.

With a squeal and a yelp, Alika fell forward, tripping over Gust. There was a burst of laughter and a scattering of snow as the two of them crashed into the ground. A discordant note rang out.

Gust and Alika cracked up as they tried to dig out of the snow. With Gust half-tangled around Alika, Alika struggled to open her wings and toss the snow off, just panting in exhaustion. Gust’s whiskers fluttered, and she stared into the Kurothian’s glittering eyes as he tried to get free.

“So is this a normal thing where you’re from?” Alika asked, giving his scaled neck a nuzzle. “The dancing, not the falling.”

“Of course!” Gust trilled. “It’s a tragedy that you all don’t have music or dance.”

“We have music!” Alika scoffed. She tried to bat at Gust, but couldn’t pull her forepaw out from beneath her — it was as stuck as her wings. “We have something a little bit like dance as well, I think. Apparently it’s a bit more dangerous than this, though.”

“I would imagine, given that you’re five times my weight!” Gust wheezed, squirming.

Alika nodded and laughed.

“That was me politely asking for you to get off me,” Gust weakly added. “My intestines are getting crushed.”

“Oh!” Alika said, not having realized that she was laying her weight on Gust’s long underbelly. She dug her hindpaws into the snow, trying to scooch herself off him.

Gust winced and grunted as she did so, but eventually managed to untangle himself from her, getting out of the snow and shaking himself off. Alika stood back to all fours. Her heart was racing, and she felt warm from all of the dancing. With a flap of her wings, she knocked the snow off from them.

“Come on, come on!” Tarka said. “Let’s go again! Even faster!”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Alika saw that Snow had pulled her head out of the ground, and was standing in the dark shadows, silently staring at them. Alika waved at Snow with a paw. What was up with her today?

“You sure you don’t want to join?” Alika asked.

Snow averted her gaze and opened her jaws, only for a roar far larger than one a small fox could make to come out.

Gust squealed as the ground rumbled, hiding beneath one of Alika’s wings. Alika dug her claws into the snow as the mountain above them shot freezing water upward, the slopes shaking angrily with the eruption. Alika turned her ears down, the noise painful.

There was a loud crack in the shelf above them. Tarka yelped as he leaped out from beneath the shelf, and Alika grabbed Gust by his scruff to do the same. A moment later, ice tumbled down from above, crashing into where they’d been planning to sleep. The fire went out beneath it, and the four were doused in darkness.

“Oh dear,” Gust gulped.

“It’s okay.” Alika let go of Gust’s neck. He floated upward, coiling in the air. “I’ll make you a new one.”

Alika squinted, looking for the pine trees she’d looted wood from earlier. It was so dark here, the mist carrying just a tiny glow from the Twins and rings far above it. The ground below had fallen silent once more, but Alika’s ears perked up as she thought she heard movement. Her hackles suddenly raised on end, and Alika felt a chill of nervousness. Something was wrong. Was it just another eruption in the distance? Or the start of an avalanche?

Alika looked up, not expecting to see anything in the thick mist. She didn’t, just dark shadows in the sky.

And then, one of the shadows moved.