The following morning dawned brisk and clear over the northern frontier. A pale winter sun hung low over the serrated granite peaks, casting long, sharp shadows across the ancient pine forests that carpeted the foothills of Obsidian Ridge. The winter sun cast pale golden ribbons through the ancient canopy of hemlocks and black spruces. Snow hung heavy upon the boughs, occasionally dropping in soft, silent plops into the underbrush where…
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