The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

As the quartet ventured deeper into the outskirts of Winterhaven, the winter woods fluttered with sparrows and starlings, hopping from branch to branch. The air, crisp and laden with the scent of pine, carried vivid greens, reds, oranges, blues, and yellows that whisked past them, encircling and enticing them. Snow-laden branches above formed a delicate lace against the winter sky, as the ground beneath their boots crunched with each step, echoing in the vast forest as it tweeted and chirped back.

Oaks stood straight and rigid, their broad branches reaching skyward, blanketing the flora and fauna below it, catching snow droplets. Their bare limbs, coated in a layer of snow, then drooped to the trees below, their branches weaving to grasp together. While trunks etched with scars and bruises watched on.

Fir trees with needles that bristled like prickly defences dared any intruders to come too close. Their boughs, heavy with snow, formed a formidable barrier as the quartet navigated through this green fortress, dropping low or hopping over just to get by. The fir trees seemed to whisper to each other as they wrapped their branches around one another, their needle-covered branches locking up like a phalanx formation.

Amidst this symphony of giants, spruce trees rose like long spearheads into the sky, their branches reaching upward in a unified stance. Choreographed, they stood in silent formation, a natural assembly of green spear tips pointing out to the sky that was blocked by their cover.

A calming melody enveloped the woods, woven by the creaking of branches and distant calls of unseen creatures, singing their lullaby of the forest. The winter sun, filtering through the skeletal canopy, lit up the forest world.

Halvar pointed out tracks of rabbits and foxes. "Beautiful, lads. Easy to find your prey when you look carefully." His voice is lower and calm. "Keep your senses sharp; anything can give you a clue, like this." He said as he sniffed some excrement.

"Eeeewww." The boys recoiled and shuddered.

"We're on the right track." They traversed further into the heart of the woods; the sense of smell deepened. Halvar led, his keen eyes and ears scanning the surroundings for signs, like hearing then spotting the eagle far above them.

"Look for fallen branches, lads," Halvar said, picking up some pieces of fallen oak tree. "They make for excellent firewood, and you won't have to harm any trees and the forest."

Edric began to collect fallen branches, reluctantly followed by two boys. "These thicker ones will burn longer, and the smaller ones will catch fire quicker," he explained, showcasing his practical knowledge.

"So, some of you remember what I have been telling you lads before," Halvar showed a relieved smile, ruffling Edric's hair, earning a smile back from Edric.

"Ah, yes, the profound wisdom of firewood selection. Because nothing says 'survival like knowing the best girth of a tree branch. I'll be sure to include that in my epic tale of forest adventures." Brandon said as he wiggled some branches at Edric.

Halvar chuckled, "Aye, Brandon, your tale will be a riveting one, especially when you get to the part where your limbs fall off from the cold. Now, keep gathering; I don't want to stay out here when it gets dark."

As they moved deeper into the forest, the towering spruces released a gentle shower of needles with every breeze. "Grab some of these spruce needles; they make excellent kindling, and their scent will add a pleasant aroma to the fire."

"So, we're not only on a quest for magic but also becoming winter survival experts. Are you going to teach us to make snow forts?" Jon said.

"Gods, I haven't made them since I was a kid, playing with my dad," Halvar smiled.

"We can totally play soldiers; I know what we are doing later."

"Maybe I'll have to teach you a thing or two about winter fortifications after we are done here. Show you how it's really done."

"Tell me, Edric, how is your father? Is his hand better after his accident?" Halvar asked.

Edric adjusted the bundle of branches on his shoulder and replied, "Oh, he's alright. He's back to the farm today. Thankfully, he gets a bit grumpy when he doesn't get to work."

Halvar chuckled. "Ah, I can understand that. Not much else to do. But it's good that he's back out. He'll be right as rain soon enough."

Edric nodded appreciatively, "Hope so."

Halvar turned to Jon. "And Jon, how is the tavern? No travelling traders giving trouble again, I hope."

Jon grinned. "Trouble? Always, Halvar. But it keeps things interesting. Some traders think they can outwit me, but they soon learn the folly of underestimating us."

"Ah, the famous tavern warrior. Do you ever get tired of being Winterhaven's guardian of spirits and trade?" Brandon said, throwing his arm over his shoulder.

Jon rolled his eyes, "Ugh, why does my mom still go on about that story? I was four."

"But you were such a cute little boy, my guardian defender," Brandon replied in a high-pitched voice.

"You are so annoying." Jon quickly retorted, grabbing Brandon's arm and attempting to tickle under his armpits.

"Such a mighty warrior keeping all the evil traders away. Oh, help me." Brandon said while still in his high-pitched voice and trying to slap Jon's tickling arms away.

"Quiet!" Halvar demanded, coming up behind the two of them and grabbing and pinching their necks.

Growls emanated from the shadows of the trees. Emerging, beady amber eyes and fangs glinted like polished blades, cutting through the air as it moved into the light.

"Dire wolves. Do what I tell you, boys," Halvar calmly said, moving the three boys behind him and standing up taller.

Its fur, a blend of shadowy greys and whites, marred the landscape it prowled. Each sleek, powerful muscle rippled beneath its scarred coat as its shoulders rhythmically moved up and down, with a predatory grace. Claws dug deep into the ground, leaving a trail, its claim of prey.

It snarled, its sensuous smile crowning its formidable ravenous fangs, the steam of its breath mingling with the frigid air, each breath slithering through its canine teeth. The eyes, a fierce amber hue, burned with a glint of intelligence as a lick of its tongue licked the fresh flesh of the air.

Birds stopped chirping, winds sprung needles, and the earth and moss smell diluted. The sounds are broken by jaw snaps and simple barks. Huddled under mother's warmth, huddled five cubs. They ran, bit, played, jumped, and did all to irritate mother. Wrestled over mother paws, bit onto fur, and dominated one another.

A pack of muted greys and soft whites fought and played, a hierarchy decided. The biggest and best played further, for hunting and prey were now on the line, orbs of bright amber innocence watched and followed, and drool leaked from thirsty teeth before mother asserted true dominance as her rumbles silenced her pack.

"Shit, how did I not spot the cubs earlier?" Halvar uttered.

"What does that mean, Halvar?" Brandon whispered as he and the boys moved closer to Halvar.

Halvar's expression tightened while drawing his bow closer to him. "It means it's territorial and extra fierce in protecting its young. And also means we might be screwed."

The dire wolf's snarls intensified, echoing through the woods, playing in the air moving with the winds, encircling them. The cubs, huddled closer together, their play momentarily forgotten as they returned to mother.

The boys exchanged glances, as the snow started to melt on their skin and Halvar made sure the boys were behind him.