With each gust of wind, clumps of snow tumbled from the trees above, landing softly on the forest floor with a mellow thud. Above, past the trees, the sky was completely blotted out by the dense clouds that spread heavy flakes of snow down to the forest.

As the snow continued to fall relentlessly, the Howler's breath drifted into the air like an apparition. Its eyes dim and its presence faint. It had triumphed in battle, but now was held to its consequences.

Zerin stumbled as he arose from the bank of snow, trembling as if he were learning to walk on stilts; each step was filled with caution.

Never again...

It was a more hopeful vow than anything. Zerin hated the fact that his innate ability was nothing more than a liability. In order to survive in the Dream Realm, Zerin knew he needed some way to get around it.

After what felt like an eternity, stood right over the Veinborne. It was breathing, but its body was lifeless, as if it had been seized by something unseen. Zerin noticed its eyes, how they almost pulsed like a heartbeat.

"What is this? Get up, we don't have time for this."

Zerin feeling a bit brave, kicked the creature and stumbled back losing his balance.

He looked at the creature for a reaction. It was breathing, but its body was lifeless, as if it had been seized by something unseen. Zerin noticed its eyes, how they almost pulsed like a heartbeat.

Zerin examined the creature’s body from a safe distance, searching for any signs of injury. The result? Nothing. Not a single wound—at least, nothing new, besides the injuries it sustained before it became a Veinborne.

What could have possibly happened?

Confusion gnawed at his mind as he scratched the back of his head.

Suddenly without warning, the Howler's body erupted into a violent convulsion. The creature's muscles twitched and spasmed, jerking as if rejecting some foul poison.

The Howler began to claw at its own chest. Chunks of its own hide were ripped away, falling to the ground like discarded garments.

Zerin's stomach churned at the sight—a display of torment that rendered him unable to look away. Then, through this chaos, the Spell voice came forth.

[Veinborne Undergoing Advancement...]

It was utterly terrifying—a transformation, a shift unfolding before Zerin's very eyes.

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Advancements—or rather, transformations—were phenomena exclusive to Nightmare creatures, beings that spiral down the path of profanity. These shifts were usually slow, taking days, weeks, or even months to fully complete. But this here, what Zerin was witnessing, was something extraordinary—an instant transformation.

Such rare occurrences were true anomalies. Instant transformations were inherently visceral, due to nightmare creatures needing to violently shed their form to transition into the next rank.

The Howler knelt in agonizing torment, its skin flayed and raw. The chilled air around it shimmered, steam rising from its body as if it were being burned from the inside out. Each breath was laced with pain as its muscles rippled.

Then the real changes began to unfold. The Howler's piercing red eyes shifted to an icy blue, like the heart of a glacier. Its claws of dull onyx withered away as its fingers contorted. Filling in their place, new claws sprouted; they were sharper, longer, and resembled bloodied ice.

What followed was the final stage of the transformation: a new pelt erupted forth almost instantaneously. The fur was a pristine white, glistening like freshly fallen snow, flawless and without blemish.

The creature was no longer in agony; it was as if the snow-white cloak had enveloped it in perfect tranquility.

[...Veinborne Advancement Complete]

***

With the Howler now up and running, they began the walk back to the shelter together

As they emerged from the forest, the blizzard subsided significantly, nearing a standstill. Only the crunch of snow beneath their feet and their faint breathing could be heard as they ventured the mountainside.

But, of course, trudging through the freshly fallen snow was a difficult task. Zerin paused, panting slightly with his hands on his knees as the icy wind blew past him, numbing his fingers and freezing his face.

Zerin raised a chilled finger and pointed towards the shelter nestled further up the mountain and spoke a command to the Howler.

"Go ahead... Lead the way." He cleared his throat.

To his surprise, the Veinborne obeyed without any resistance, unlike before. It moved ahead of him, its massive body effortlessly traversing the snow and carving a path for Zerin.

It was truly a blessing—not only having a worthy companion but just not being alone. Even though it wasn't too long, Zerin felt the creature was much-needed company. And, with this creature by his side, he wouldn't have to work as hard to survive.

Upon arriving at the shelter, relief washed over him when he saw that the fire was still alive, albeit weakly flickering. If he had taken another hour to get there, it likely would have been snuffed out by the cold, forcing him to reignite it from scratch. He quickly grabbed a piece of wood and added it to the fire, watching as the flames slowly began to consume it.

The Howler, on the other hand, with its broad shoulders and powerful frame, struggled to squeeze through the entrance of the stone shelter. Zerin turned back, hearing the sound of the structure creaking as if it were starting to crumble under the strain.

Zerin stepped outside, closer to the Howler. This creature was easily over six feet; Zerin guessed it was probably nearing eight feet tall. But not only was its height massive, but it was heavily muscular as well.

"No... Stay..."

Zerin pointed to the ground, and the creature sat in the snow obediently. Strangely, its behavior reminded Zerin more of a domesticated dog than the beastly demeanor it had displayed earlier.

Zerin pointed up at the cloudy sky. “When the sun is up, wake me.”

The Veinborne cocked its head, and Zerin sighed. He didn’t want to rely on this creature too much, but he understood that the Howler’s senses were far sharper than his own, and he needed it to watch over him while he rested. Even now, he could feel his body weakening as time went on; he was most likely still anemic.

Zerin stepped back into the stone building. He was curious and decided to check his runes, specifically about the Howler itself.

"The Spell typically contained descriptions of the things it provided to a spell carrier. With this in mind, the Veinborne shouldn't be an exception.

[Scourged Howler]

Rank: Awakened, Tier II

Class: Beast

Description: "Likened to its Lord, this howler was scourged and forged in torment. It held one goal: revenge. Once satiated, it devoted itself to its Lord."

"Sounds about right..."

In a way, he could agree with the spell that he and the Howler were similar. But how far did that similarity extend? Zerin felt the same bloodlust from the creature that he had experienced himself back there. In search of more answers, he delved into its attributes.

Attributes:

[Imperfect] - "Far too imperfect."

[Winter's Repose] - "The tranquility of Winter is unparalleled, empowering those that are transformed by her embrace."

[Faint Nobility] - "This creature is one of the descendants of the Beastkin, one of the many types of beings created by the Beast God."

The attributes were interesting. The [Imperfect] attribute was something that held very little substance, but he appreciated the [Winter's Repose] attribute more because it explained the shift within the Veinborne and the new form it now held.

His mind lingered on the latter attribute longer than he had expected as he lay down on the mat in front of the fire. He questioned.

"The Beast God…" He paused briefly, then shook his head and closed his eyes to sleep.