Rythian heard a voice shouting, but he couldn't make out the words. Even though his eyes were open all he could see was black. What happened?.... a faint light glowed out from the center of the blackness, slowly spreading outward to create a blurry image. It was hard to make out what was before his through his blurred vision, but after a moment things began to come into focus. To his bewilderment what he saw before him was Husky, crouched down before him staring in shock and panting.
With a groan Rythian pushed his paws underneath him, pushing himself up so that he was off the ground. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous. He winced as he felt pressure on his hand, it was completely numb and locked in a grip around the handle of a gleaming sword. The surface of it felt slightly cold, as if the heat from his own body refused to warm it, and everything else that came within several inches contact with it began to frost over with a layer of icy chill.
Utterly confused he stared down at the blade gripped firmly in his hand. Where did this come from?... He tried to release his grip gut his fingers were frozen around the grip and wouldn't open. He winced as a slight bit of feeling reacted from his attempted movement, bringing only a bit of pain and gave up trying to drop it.
Glancing up at Husky he remembered fleeing the cabin at the sound of someone at the door. "Who was it at the door?!" Was all he could think to ask. Nothing else really weighed on his mind as much at the moment, other than the sword practically frozen to his hand of course.




