Tender Night before the Tempest

The mountain night settled over Blackwood Ridge with the quiet solemnity of a cathedral. Through the timber cabin's high windows, the northern sky was a canvas of deep indigo, illuminated by the cold, distant sparkle of winter constellations and the faint, dancing green ribbons of the northern lights. Tomorrow, the blood of hundreds of wolves would soak the snowfields of Frostfang Gorge. Inside the cabin, the heavy fieldstone fireplace crackled…