As the dawn broke over the distant horizon, a series of crimson hues painted the sky, blending gradually into the blue as they stretched upwards. High above, where the clouds intercepted the golden rays, the light refracted through ice crystals, creating a faintly visible halo of seven radiant colors.

I hung from the metal rod protruding from the balcony, taking in the stunning view. It would be too bright soon, so I let go with my left hand, retrieving a pair of dark-tinted goggles from my pocket and putting them on.

Was that... hesitant footsteps I heard? I turned my ears towards the sound, confirming the identity of the approaching figure.

"Hey," I decided to break the ice, swallowing all the hesitant filler words that came to mind. We hadn't had a chance to talk since that chaotic scene last time.

"Hey," Piqsirpoq responded, leaning against the doorway, not stepping onto the balcony. He crossed his arms, directing his gaze towards the sunrise.

"I think it's beautiful," I ventured, gathering my courage--after all, he had taken the first step. "This is my favorite shade of blue."

Piqsirpoq tilted his head, then put on his dark goggles as well, walking over to join me.

Is your favorite blue the kind that's not really blue?

"I'd say it's..." I pondered, searching for the right words, "a blue with more layers."

Piqsirpoq didn't reply, but his tail swayed gently twice. Then he turned around, leaping up to grasp the end of the metal rod.

"Move over a bit." He flicked his tail to adjust his position, and I did the same, making space for him.

We fell into silence again, as I couldn't think of anything to say. When you've spent most of your life without normal conversations with peers your age, it's no surprise that your social skills aren't exactly great. But thinking back to a year ago, I would have preferred if we never spoke. Maybe, in some ways, things have improved a lot.

"Is your Ice Claw footwork really that bad?" Piqsirpoq cut straight to the point, stating it with a teasing tone, probably not wanting to embarrass me too much.

"Oh... yeah." I felt my ears droop and heat up. "I always lag behind in cross-country runs, so I never had to use complex footwork." I never really thought about it--I only kept up because I was following a path someone else had already cleared--Piqsirpoq's path. "How did you know?" I had an inkling but wanted to confirm it.

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"All the young wolves on Hadrian's Wall are mimicking your awkward moves. It's become some new kind of dance trend." I could hear the suppressed laughter in Piqsirpoq's voice.

"How was I supposed to know Qana would suddenly make me lead..." I muttered in complaint, trying to erase the disastrous scene from my mind.

"Don't you want to lead?" Piqsirpoq asked, changing his grip to face me.

"No." I lowered my gaze. That should be obvious, right?

"But," Piqsirpoq said, his tone soft in a way that felt unfamiliar, "you can lead."

I shifted my grip, trying to distract myself and relax a bit. But in the end, I decided to raise my head and meet Piqsirpoq's gaze.

"And it should be easy for you, right? That... what's it called... psychic stance?"

"Qana just scolded me, saying it's useless without physical strength." I noticed, to my annoyance, that my tail was veering to the left, so I deliberately swayed it to the other side. "You know I have poor stamina," I mumbled.

"Want me to teach you?" No disdain, no criticism--just a simple question.

"What?" I wasn't sure if I was surprised or what. I didn't even know why I asked--it might have just been to fill the silence in my mind.

"Ice Claw footwork, and other breathing techniques, plus endurance training," Piqsirpoq quickly replied, clearly not bothered by my ungrateful attitude. "And I usually run alone in the morning. It's kind of boring."

I didn't know how to respond--the answer was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't say it. Was this really happening?

"Rationalism! Looking at you, I'd have thought it was easy." Piqsirpoq released his grip, landing on the ground, and rubbed his palms together. "How do you manage to hold on for so long?"

"Uh..." That was a good question, and I thought I had a pretty good answer ready. "Practice makes perfect?" I let go as well, landing lightly. Piqsirpoq's response was a soft laugh.

"So, what do you say?" he asked again. "I'd like to have something I can... teach my brother."

If it were snowing right now, we could probably hear the sound of the snowflakes falling.

Piqsirpoq's pale blue eyes, as cool as a frozen lake, stared at me, waiting quietly for my answer.

"I think..." I had told so many lies that I feared I'd forgotten how to tell the truth. But I think I could start practicing. "Practice makes perfect."

Piqsirpoq gave me a smile, the morning sun casting a golden glow behind him.

"The techniques for Wolf Path, Fast Pace, and Short Steps are all different." Piqsirpoq demonstrated a specific posture, digging his boots into the snow, kicking it aside repeatedly, forming a solid structure from the snowdrift. "The Wolf Path is meant to assist the team, allowing those behind to follow effortlessly--it's the responsibility of the lead."

I tried to mimic his movements, stepping into the footholds he carved out, reinforcing the structure of the Wolf Path.

"This takes a lot of stamina, so usually, five wolves take turns, with the lead and their beta partner sharing the duty." He moved aside, signaling for me to take his place and move forward. "I've got my team, but I think we should focus on just one thing for now."

Piqsirpoq didn't need to spell it out--we both knew it was almost impossible to find other Snows willing to help me. So I simply followed his guidance, practicing the Ice Claw footwork, though my movements were clumsy--I was really bad at moving in the snow. What method had Qana used?

"You should also be able to judge the thickness and hardness of the snow," Piqsirpoq explained from behind me. "I found that psychic powers can sense that information, which is very helpful for determining where to step and what type of footwork to use."

It wasn't until Piqsirpoq explained that I realized I had never noticed it before. Even though inanimate objects don't generate waves, they respond to them. Like a sonar, every step into the snow provided some information about the surrounding terrain.

"Not bad!" Piqsirpoq stepped sideways to pass me, speaking with an encouraging tone and a smile. "Now let's start picking up the pace!"