You'd literally just gotten done with your little meeting with the IceWing Queen. You were departing. And then a messenger runs in. What's the news? A plague. On the SandWings.

There was a collective- "...Huh..?"

You'd been telling your goodbyes, mostly towards Puffin. And the idiot turns around and accuses you of being infected. You, who hasn't touched a single SandWing since you'd gotten there.

You wished you'd calmly deflected his points, but you didn't. You ended up shoving the idiot into a snowbank. Push came to shove, five minutes later you both were bloody and tired.

That was two days ago. Puffin ran off, you followed. Since then, you'd almost thought you'd found his body, it was a cruel thing done by the one who'd started the plague. And now it was a blizzard. It felt like the final stretch. Your last stand. If you didn't find him soon you'd literally freeze to death. You were just walking through the snow. Hoping. Praying. That you'd see something. Anything. Please.

It felt like a death march, your whole body aching, the cold settling in your bones. But you had a goal.

And you'd die before you failed it.

No, literally, you might die here.