A thick layer of snow had settled on the Yetis' tents, Frostnova looking at the fabric as she passed, searching for her troops. The Yetis were few in number, now, after that disaster at the valley, and while that was something to be regretted, it did make them far more mobile. They had all the supplies they needed now, and could easily go wherever they wanted, at least for the next few months.
Such as, hypothetically, a certain altar to the north.
Frostnova walked into the center of the circle of tents, noting the still-blazing fire. The Yetis were still here just minutes ago… huh.
"Hi, Sister." Petrova emerged from a tent, carrying something in his hands. "You're back just in time."
Just in time? For what? Frostnova scrutinized the object in his hands… a cake?
Suddenly, the other Yetis leaped out of the tents, smiles upon their faces.
"Happy birthday!" Petrova chuckled. "We made a cake for you."
Picking up a knife, he cut the cake into slices, handing them to the Yetis, before placing the plate down, in front of Frostnova. Frostnova picked up the plate as he stepped away, following Petrova as they walked into the massive round tent that served as their command center.
She kept a wide berth from the other Yetis as they passed, before sitting down near the end of the tent. Now that she was around her Yetis again, she had to be more careful with her Arts.
She looked down at her cake. It looked like a coarse white slice of something, and she broke a piece off, before popping it into her mouth. Not bad. It tasted like cornbread, combined with a lot of ice and sugar. So much that she could see some of the Yetis visibly wincing as they bit into their slices.
Petrova's idea, likely. She had no idea how he convinced the other Yetis to follow along.
"Plans, now?" Petrova asked through a mouthful of cake, somehow unaffected by the ice. "Skar's told us that we're to patrol the region for now, find some new recruits."
Ah, that was perfect. Frostnova nodded, responding:
"We'll go north, then. I know of some of potential recruits there."
Not fully the truth, nor entirely a lie. But it was convincing enough, and it wouldn't raise many questions.
"An Infected village, of sorts?" Petrova asked, apparently having decided to stuff the remnants of his slice into his mouth.
"Mhm."
"Well, come on. Let's go!" Petrova said, standing up and walking out of the tent.
"Sure. Ivan, inform Skar that we will return to this location in four to six weeks. Pack up the tents and ready the carts." Frostnova checked that all her equipment – wand, canteen, rations – were in order, before staying behind in the command tent and beginning the slow process of folding it back up. Ursus military equipment, while reliable, was in no way quick.
To her surprise, Petrova popped back into the tent after barely a minute. "Hey, Frostnova. Mind if I ask you a question?"
"Mhm." Frostnova didn't bother turning to face him, too busy trying to uproot a support pole from its snug fit in the dirt.
"It's not really an Infected village, is it? Those rarely appear around here, let alone so far north."
Frostnova pondered coming up with a convincing lie, before deciding against it. "No, it isn't. But it is of use to us."
"Looks like we're going on an adventure again. Just like old times, huh?"
"Mhm." Fading footsteps behind her told of Petrova's departure, and Frostnova moved from the now-loosened pole to the next.
"Just like old times…" she mused, thinking back to the first time she had led the Yetis into combat.
Soon enough, they were ready to go, their small group now followed by three wooden carts, towed by a group of mules. While they were a hassle to get, these mules had proved invaluable in the past, simply because of the weight they could carry; allowing the Yetis to travel far further without resupply.
A signal, and they departed. Picking out a compass from within the carts and fishing her map out from her coat, Frostnova checked their direction; so far, so good. Thankfully, this far north, and with such a small group, there was no need to cover their tracks; the Patrol rarely came this far, especially immediately after an attack on the mines.
The Army… potentially could, but any effort to cover their tracks would be worthless anyways if they were being pursued by the Army.
She didn't like the feeling of having such a small effect in everything. Had there been a few dozen Yetis left, she would have the confidence to challenge even a small group of Army troops, but now the eight Yetis left could do nothing.
The Yetis walked through the snow behind her, idly chatting as they kept moving through the snow. Frostnova spared a glance at the carts of supplies; everything seemed in order.
The Yetis kept walking through the hills of rolling snow, undeterred by whatever laid ahead.
Again, time passed peacefully, without much of anything. Walking through the snow, Frostnova felt a strange sense of unease grip her – it was too peaceful for her liking, the empty silence permeating the open sky setting her on edge.
The other Yetis seemed at ease enough; but then again, with Petrova laughing and joking alongside them, they always were.
Night came quickly, and soon the Yetis stopped by the banks of a frozen lake, pitching their tents and starting their fires. They were making good progress, judging by her map – almost as fast as Patriot had crossed before. Unfortunately, that still meant that two weeks of walking were in order.
Lying down in her tent, Frostnova was struck by how purposeless this all was; just endless, aimless marching. Would this – could this – be her entire life?
For a moment, she entertained the thought of change, of some miracle allowing her to start anew. Perhaps someday, she could simply live in a village somewhere, peacefully living on, free of care…
No. She squashed the rebellious thought immediately. Infected had no such luxury, and perhaps they never would. For them, there were only endless battles to fight for mere survival, day by day. And thinking about such things… it would only distract her from the battles she had to fight.
Closing her eyes, Frostnova forced herself to fall asleep.
She awoke to another day of trudging through snow. It seemed as if it was winter all year round so far north, and the permafrost felt hard as ice beneath their feet, even covered by a thick layer of snow.
Speaking of snow, Petrova laughed as he sent a shower of it flying forwards with a kick, scattering miniature mounds of snow on the ground. An unfortunate Yeti was caught in the crossfire, and cried out in shock as the snow struck their back.
The Yeti in question quickly slipped their hood back on, bending down and gathering a clump of snow with their gloves; a clump that they promptly threw back at Petrova. Laughing, Petrova nimbly dodged it, before throwing a fistful of snow back.
Soon, there was a full-blown snowball fight going, and Frostnova had to slow down her pace, watching from afar as the Yetis threw their icy projectiles at each other. She couldn't bother to participate, but it was nice to see.
It made life worth living.
Frostnova almost felt like she was drifting off, standing there…
Poof. A snowball flew towards Frostnova, and she deftly struck it down with a fist.
She raised her head to look, only to find all the Yetis stopping to look at her.
Frostnova smiled. "Keep going. We can move after lunch."
With no small share of confusion, the Yetis did as she said; and soon, the sky was again filled with laughter and surprised yelps.
"Perhaps that was inefficient?" Frostnova thought to herself.
She supposed it didn't matter.
True to her word, they kept moving after a quick lunch. Despite being covered head to toe in snow, the Yetis kept smiling as they walked. Petrova specifically had a head full of snow, and as it melted, he looked as if an invisible fountain was pouring down upon him.
Not that it mattered. He was still laughing and joking alongside the other Yetis, occasionally wiping his head with some cloth to rid his hair of water.
As they walked, Frostnova took some time to observe the world around her. Occasionally, she would check their map, confirming that, indeed, they were still on the right track. The spikes of ice in the distance, built by some peculiar Catastrophe, looked as far as ever. They would have to stop there; Frostnova guessed they could likely reach it by night.
The Yetis kept happily walking forwards, as Frostnova led them ahead.
It was late night by the time they reached the ice spikes, taking refuge between two massive cliffs of ice. After a short dinner, the other Yetis went to sleep, Frostnova soon following suit.
The night passed, and Frostnova called the Yetis awake once more the next morning as they continued their trek. Nothing much happened; the Yetis and their accompanying carts steadily moving throughout the tundra. Frostnova counted the time as they walked.
They had about ten days left. A week, in good weather.
The Yetis stopped beside a small outcrop of stone, and the night passed without a noise. As day came, however, the camp was again alight with conversation as the Yetis packed up and got ready to go; and soon, they were back off into the endless white.
In the afternoon, Petrova spotted a small grove of trees in the distance, and suggested they stop for the day; Frostnova chided him for being lazy, and they kept moving. Eventually, they stopped by a tall bank of snow.
Frostnova would come to regret that decision, as the next day they would wake to find their tents covered in snow – and their mules scattered across their camp.
Cleaning up the mess took the better half of the day, but with Frostnova at the lead, it was still done at an admirable pace.
The rest of the day was spent trekking through the snow and regretting their choices. They stopped far short of their original target; by sundown, they had to camp within the open plains, the closest cover another hour's walk away.
As if compensating for the previous morning, their luck held, and there was no blizzard to cover their tents with snow during the night. As such, they kept a good pace throughout the day, and soon they arrived – a full day late – at a grove of strangely resilient trees.
Frostnova almost thought there was some sort of corruption, with how the trees rooted so deeply into the permafrost. But there were no such signs, just Originium growing unfettered at the roots. She let out a sigh of relief at that, unseen by the other Yetis, and they stopped for the day.
Waking up the next morning, Frostnova checked her map. Less than a week left; she was almost giddy at the prospect, for some reason she couldn't exactly pinpoint. But nonetheless, she kept her composure as she led the Yetis on yet another trek through the snow.
The day passed, then another. Four days left.
Then three, then two.
And at long last, they reached the icefields once more, stopping by the edge for one last rest.
"Good; we'll reach the altar tomorrow." Frostnova thought, closing her eyes.
Her dreams felt happy and warm, like a long-lost memory.
AN: Sorry for the late chapter; had a lot of stuff to do in the past few days. Very quick chapter – again, there's not much to write about, and I refuse to stretch two weeks of trekking through the same stuff (unlike before, they're so far north nothing much can happen) into a full arc. That would simply be boring.
Fun fact: In the lore, Petrova once used milk to stir-fry oilseeds (R8-6 before operation, for anybody interested). As such, I feel like a bit of culinary heresy is in order here.