The Lone Wolf

Chapter 1: The Trail of the White Silence A vast silence hung over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so chill and cold that the breath froze in mid-air with a brittle, crackling sound. It was the White Silence—the grim, brooding presence of the North that mocked the futility of life and the petty ambitions of living things. Through this vast immensity trotted Kazan, a gray giant with broad chest and sinewy loins, his thick winter pelt frosted like silver filigree. His amber eyes, unblinking and cruel as flint, swept the rim of the spruce bluffs where the white snowdrifts met the purple horizon. Hunger gnawed at his belly like an iron tooth, but his stride remained untamed, effortless, and proud.