The dancing flurry twisted violently in the air as the wind cried out through the blackening forest, what little sun had presented itself earlier was blotted out by despairing clouds. Timber felt his chest tighten as he glanced over to Shadow, who ran silently. Timber swallowed hard, puffs of air escaping his dry mouth, ears pressed tightly against his head, the blood pounding in his skull. He ran his tongue over his muzzle and scented the air. She was still alive, but her scent was covered by the aroma of fatigue, fear, and cold. He pushed himself harder.