WX-78's POV

There was ice beginning to form on the tip of my spear and in between my fingers. The hot, dry smell of the desert conflicted terribly with the icy temperature everywhere else, disallowing for any definite strategy for keeping a comfortable warmth. I snorted with impatience. Any time, now!

A loud rustling from the undergrowth somewhere near me alerted me that someone else had gotten tired of waiting as well. Webber broke out into the desert, claws gleaming and teeth bared as he lunged for the blue creature who, up until now, had been peacefully munching away. It let out a startled bleat, hopping away. Webber drew back, growling just loud enough for my sensors to pick up. He looked back, caught my eye, and nodded once. I nodded back. Arguments and petty rivalries could be set aside for survival, surely. Keeping low to the ground, he made a wide circle, disappearing to my vision. The goat looked up again, looking in fear of Webber's direction, before bleating again, louder this time, and fleeing straight towards me.

As soon as it was within range, I broke from my own cover and swung my weapon in a wide arc, cracking the beast against the side of its head. It pitched sideways, obviously dazed, and I raised my weapon again, preparing to stab it in its neck. Before I could bring it down, something shoved me aside roughly, and when I looked up again, Webber was on top of the creature, his knife buried deep in its throat. It started thrashing, but he held on, and eventually, its struggle subsided. Only then did he release it and back away, looking pleased with himself. Annoyance welled up in my chest. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR? THAT WAS GOING TO BE MY KILL."

He smiled in a way that was just asking to be punched. "You weren't quick enough," he replied calmly. "And it wouldn't stay dazed for long." He wiped his claws off on his fur before meeting my gaze again defiantly. With a glimmer in his eye, he added, "In a few years, you might be able to be half as fast with a kill as we are." I tried to think of something to say in response, but he cut me off before I could. "Brr! It's too cold to just be standing around arguing! Let's get this back to camp, shall we? Wilson will think we've frozen to death."

"YOU SAY AS THOUGH IT WOULD BE A BAD THING," I grumbled, but had to grudgingly admit he had a point. I pushed past him before he could even attempt to grab the slain animal and grabbed it by one of its twisted horns. Despite the chill, it felt slightly warm beneath my grasp. I gave him a glare, expecting him to protest, but he had already turned away and was walking calmly back to camp. Annoyed, I followed him. Imagine having to follow the lead of a scrawny half-bred fleshling! My mind scoffed. Oh, how far I've fallen.

About halfway through the forest, I dared to look up and squint through the trees. The sky was beginning to turn darker, and with it, even harsher frosts. Webber dropped behind to match my pace, tracing my gaze to the sky.

"It won't be long until spring," he commented distractedly. "The air tastes less like ice, more like melted water." He sniffed. "Smells too much like wet dog, if you ask us."

"I WAS NOT PLANNING TO."

He pointed at the sun, ignoring me. "The days have been getting longer. I don't think you'll like spring very much. It's very rainy. Summer will be even worse." He shivered. "The sun will be so hot, the trees won't help to protect us from the heat very much. And the days will be so long, and the nights so short, we won't even be able to rely on using the coolness of nighttime to do anything."

I glanced sharply at him. "YOU KNOW THIS HOW?"

"We've still been having dreams, you know," he went on. "We think Wilson has been too. Nightmares are getting to both of us." He finally looked at me, frowning slightly. "But we can never remember them when we wake up. What about you? Any strange dreams lately?"

"IF I DID, I WOULD NOT TELL YOU," I snapped.

"Yes. Weird..." He shook his head.

Something caught my eye before I could reply. I turned to look at it, but it was gone. "TAKE THE CREATURE BACK TO THE CAMP AND MAKE SURE POOR WILSON DOES NOT GET SCARED. I WANT TO CHECK SOMETHING."

"Also known as you're tired of being in our presence." Webber snickered. "Alright, we get it, you're too amazing and superior. Have fun freezing to death out there while we're nice and cozy and warm by the fire." There was a teasing note in his voice as he grabbed the goat from my grasp, but I remained silent and refused to reply. I hadn't been able to get a good look at it, but it felt important somehow. I waited until he disappeared from sight before changing course and heading towards where I saw the glint of blue light.

The snowbirds flew into the sky with a loud flutter of wings as they officially recognized the coming of dusk. A few braver birds tentatively flew down again to peck at the seeds still littering the ground, but otherwise, it turned almost entirely silent. I won't be long.

I listened intently to the area around me- I wasn't going to be caught off guard, not again. There was no way I was going to let another... fleshbag... rescue me again. It was humiliating the first time. It wouldn't happen again.

Eventually, the forest broke open into an almost unnaturally round clearing. The first stars were beginning to appear in the darker part of the horizon. In the center of the clearing, a ring of green mushrooms had sprouted, reaching for the sky's last remaining light, but that was far from the most interesting thing I saw.

The middle of the mushrooms harbored a smooth, white-streaked gray rock, just high enough to reach my knees I assumed, despite it being just too far away to tell exactly, and perched on said rock was a person. A real person, not a skeleton, not some weird and random creature, facing away from me. I found myself pausing, trying to figure out what to feel. Should I feel excited to see another living person here? Should I attack him- he could be a threat. But instead, I did the one thing I didn't want to do.

I did nothing.

I just sort of watched him.

He wore a brown leather tunic and a tan undershirt, even though surely the clothing wasn't thick or covering enough to protect him from the temperature or anything else for that matter. He had a mess of short brown hair on his head, and by far, the most interesting part about him was the sword. It hung at his side, glowing brightly and shedding blue light on the frost-covered ground and the figure himself, sharp and pristine.

He stiffened, and then he turned to face me.

His eyes.

They were glowing.

All of the instances of glowing eyes in the past hit me hard, but his weren't amber. They were blue- the same blue as his blade. I quickly looked for something to say, but before I could, the air seemed to shift and suddenly, the clearing, the mushroom ring, and the man were all gone. I was left alone, deep in the heart of the forest, with nothing but traces of sunlight to guide me. I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over myself, before turning and running as fast as I could home. I could not make sense of what I had seen, but there was a sense of dread deep in my chest.

Something told me that this vision, tonight, was the hint of something terrible to come.

And we would all be helpless to stop it.