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Winter had arrived - in fact, it had been here for quite some time. The landscape was painted white, the chill threatened to soak into our bones. But there we were, huddled in blankets by a roaring fire, with not a care in the world.
And yet...something nagged at the back of our minds. Some feeling that things were about to change. We looked to our friends and saw similar thoughts expressed on their faces. What could be wrong?
A figure came running towards us through the snow. He stumbled, tripped twice, barely avoided falling right on his face. Who was this crazy person running out in the cold? We looked to each other, clasped hands, thought This is it. This is the trouble we've been waiting for.
The man fell a few feet away from us. He was gasping for air. Kaydubs leaned close as she realized he was trying to say something, and recognized a familiar face. It was SummertheLynx, and he was bleeding from a deep wound in his chest. The snow was painted red beneath him.
"R...run," he finally choked out before his breath stopped.
Perhaps we should have heeded his words. Perhaps it would have been better for all of us. But we could not let the injustice of his death lie. So we stayed. We fought. We searched for his killer. We felt darkness among us, and in searching for it we turned on each other...
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