Zerin never anticipated leaving the shelter this soon. But after he returned to the corpse of the pale abomination for its cores, he was struck with fear. The corpse was gone, leaving only a deep, winding trail etched into the snow, marked by its azure blood that meandered away from him.

The previous victory was instantly ripped from him. A sense of dread clawed at his gut. In that moment, he knew he had to leave.

Now, as he navigated through the winter thickets of the forest---away from the deep azure trail, away from the stone structure that had been his shelter.

A minty chill seeped through his heavy jacket. He glanced back, frustration spiking within him as the Howler lagged behind.

"Let's go!" Zerin shouted.

They had only just started walking, and this creature seemed to have a vendetta against the idea of marching through the forest for some particular reason. It was unexpected, but then again, he was comparing the recorded behavior of echoes to the unknown nature of Veinborne.

Another issue for Zerin to grapple with: he hadn't eaten or drank anything since he arrived in this frozen landscape, aside from the azure blood of pale abomination, of course.

He pulled out his map, the soft crunch of snow underfoot mixing with the rustle of the snow branches overhead. He couldn't afford to slow down, not when that brute was still alive. Besides, Zerin couldn't stay in here forever. He needed to find Dex and head to the gate, and with this map, he could accomplish that goal.

***

His breath caught in his throat as he came to a hurried stop. He avoided disturbing a delicate track pressed lightly into the thick blanket of snow--a single trail of hooves, imprinted on the surface, as if the creature danced atop the snowy surface rather than trudged.

Seconds later, the Veinborne caught up to him, its hunched form joining his side. The creature's piercing blue eyes glowed like vibrant twin flames, narrowing as this focused on the prints in the snow.

"You're up..." Zerin commanded, glancing at the Howler.

With a soft rustle of its white fur, the Veinborne stepped forward, its powerful legs sinking into the snow as it began to follow the trail of hooves. Zerin fell in step behind.

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As they pressed onward, the trees in the forest began to constrict, closing in around the Howler, their trunks nearly shoulder to shoulder with the creature. Zerin's hand rested atop of his sheathed sword as he followed.

Suddenly, the Howlers, pointy ears shifted along with its head, and it knelt, crouching low in the deep snow. Its gaze fixed, locked onto a target. Zerin crept forward cautiously, peeking over the creature's hunched back.

Following the Howler's line of sight, Zerin's eyes widened. Before him stood a nightmare creature unlike any he had ever seen. It was a deer, but one that seemed to embody the very essence of the winter forest itself. It wasn't monstrous, it was elegant, its antlers were immense, rising majestically above its head, an icy blue that mirrored the glowing eyes of the Howler.

The deer's pelt was a masterpiece of nature, intricately swirled and shimmering with pulsing glow. Its movement was effortless as it walked atop the snow, seemingly weightless, not sinking into the powdery snow despite its mass. Spellbound, Zerin watched as it bent down to sip from the slow stream of water running between the rocks, the tinkling sound of miniature icicles chimed between the stones, being carried by the water.

He exhaled shakily, trying to calm the sudden emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"Go," he commanded softly, his voice steadying.

In an instant, the beautiful scene shifted to chaos. The Howler sprang into action, sprinting bipedally, its muscles rippling beneath its fur. The deer, sensing the sudden movement stiffened, its eyes widening before it ran.

The deer was swift. As it began to gain considerable distance, Zerin's heart raced at the thought that his next meal might escape.

Yet, despite its advantage in speed, the deer was unprepared for the Howler's next move. With a powerful leap, the creature launched itself across the icy stream. It landed with a heavy thud on a fallen log slick with frost, its blood-red claws sinking into the rough bark for purchase. Channeling its momentum, the Howler sprang from the log with precision.

The Veinborne shot at the deer like a bullet. Landing squarely on the deer's back, its crimson claws sank into the soft flesh and the deer yelped as they tumbled into the snow.

Zerin stood frozen for a moment, astonished by the display of power and cunning. But as the Howler began to tear into the deer, Zerin snapped back to reality. If he wanted even a piece of that deer he better get moving quickly.

He leapt carelessly over the icy stream, but his foot faltered, and he landed clumsily on the other side. The icy water splashed against his boot sending a shock of cold up his leg.

Zerin drew his sword as he approached the gruesome scene. The Veinborne was completely engrossed in its feast, devouring the warm, steaming innards of the deer.

His face twisted at the sight, and his voice stumbled out. "Good work..."

The Howler didn't respond; it just continued eating. Zerin sighed and opted for a leg of the deer, leaving the rest to the Veinborne--it did all the heavy lifting after all.

After separating the leg, he took a moment to breathe. The Howler seemed to be in bliss as it devoured its meal as if it hasn't eaten in days. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, strangely the smell was pleasant.

Hunger spawned, forcing Zerin to take action. He pulled out the kindling and firewood he'd carefully stowed outside his pack. Soon, the fire crackled to life, flames leaping eagerly as they clawed for the deer leg he held over them.

After a several minutes, the meat sizzled and crackled over the hungry flames. Zerin twisted the leg, ensuring it cocked evenly. The heat radiated against his face, warm and intense, causing him to squint.

He leaned back, resting his head against the rough bark of a nearby tree, one foot comfortably propped on a log as he watched the flames hungrily lap at the meat. His gaze drifted momentarily toward the Veinborne, still picking the deer carcass clean even an hour later.

Zerin had never really considered that the Howler needed sustenance. Yet watching it now, something came to him. The Howler's clumsy manner led him to see it as childlike, but this perception was flawed. The truth was, the Howler simply wasn't in its element--as it was a wild creature at its core, it wasn't used to being tamed.

As the deer leg continued to sizzle and pop, Zerin carefully pulled it off the fire. After letting it cool briefly, he took a bite. A rich, smoky flavor greeted him. But he knew that, in a survival situation, almost anything could taste good. There was no room for complaints; as long as he was fed, that was what mattered.