The sun rose slowly over the frozen expanse of the North, casting pale rays of light across the snow-covered ground. The chill still hung heavy in the air, but the storm had eased, leaving the landscape quiet and still. Ghost trotted ahead of the group, his white fur blending almost seamlessly into the snow, while Dream rode on Katrina's shoulder, purring softly against the morning chill.

Katrina walked between Jon and Reynolds, her golden eyes scanning the horizon. For once, there was a peaceful silence between them—not the heavy, oppressive kind, but the sort that came with a rare moment of calm after chaos. The events of the previous day still lingered in her mind, but the cool air and soft crunch of snow beneath their boots offered a strange sense of clarity.

Reynolds broke the silence first, his voice cutting through the stillness. "It's hard to believe a place like this can feel… peaceful."

"It doesn't happen often," Jon said, his dark eyes watching Ghost as the direwolf sniffed at the ground ahead. "You take it when you can."

Katrina smirked, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders. "Enjoy it while it lasts. Knowing us, something will try to kill us before midday."

Reynolds laughed softly, his golden eyes glinting in the sunlight. "Is it always like this with you two?"

Jon and Katrina exchanged a glance, their expressions softening. "Pretty much," Katrina said with a shrug. "Welcome to the team."

Reynolds smiled faintly, his gaze drifting to the distant mountains. "It's strange, you know. Being here with you both. For so long, it felt like I was the only one dealing with… all of this."

Katrina's smirk faded, her expression turning thoughtful. "You're not alone anymore. And whatever this is, we'll figure it out. Together."

Jon nodded, his voice steady. "You're part of this now, Reynolds. Whether you like it or not."

Reynolds chuckled, though there was a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "I think I can live with that."

By the time they returned to the cabin, the sun had climbed higher, and the chill in the air had lessened slightly. Ghost and Dream darted inside ahead of them, the animals settling near the hearth as Jon stoked the dying embers back to life.

Katrina pulled off her gloves, flexing her fingers as she glanced at the small pile of provisions they had gathered during their journey. "All right, who's cooking?"

"You," Jon said without missing a beat, crouching to add more wood to the fire.

"Excuse me?" Katrina raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Since when is it my turn?"

"You called me predictable yesterday," Jon replied, standing and dusting off his hands. "Prove me wrong."

Reynolds smirked from his spot near the table. "I'm with Jon on this one."

Katrina sighed dramatically, throwing up her hands. "Fine. But if it's terrible, I don't want to hear a word about it."

As Katrina started unpacking their meager supplies—some dried meat, hard bread, and a few roots—Jon moved to help, his dark eyes scanning the pile. "You're not doing this alone."

"Wasn't planning on it," Katrina said with a sly grin. "Let's see if you can keep up, Snow."

Reynolds leaned against the wall, watching as they worked. The easy banter between Jon and Katrina was new to him, and though he'd only known them for a short time, it was clear how deeply they trusted each other. It was… comforting, in a way he hadn't expected.

"Don't just stand there, Reynolds," Katrina said, her voice teasing. "Grab a knife and start chopping."

"Yes, ma'am," Reynolds replied with a mock salute, moving to join them.

The three of them fell into a rhythm, the quiet crackle of the fire filling the room as they prepared the simple meal. Katrina stirred a pot over the fire, the smell of simmering broth filling the cabin, while Jon and Reynolds worked side by side to cut the roots into smaller pieces.

"So," Reynolds said as he chopped, glancing at Katrina. "Is this what you two do? Walk through the snow, fight shadows, and then argue over who cooks breakfast?"

"Pretty much," Jon said, smirking.

Katrina grinned, stirring the pot. "Welcome to the glamorous life of surviving the North."

Reynolds laughed, shaking his head. "I could get used to it."

When breakfast was finally ready, the three of them sat around the fire, bowls in hand. The meal was simple but warm, and after the cold morning, it felt like a feast.

"This isn't bad," Jon admitted, glancing at Katrina.

"High praise from you," Katrina said with a smirk. "You're welcome."

Reynolds chuckled, shaking his head. "You two are something else."

"Glad you're entertained," Jon said dryly, though there was a faint smile on his lips.

As they ate, the weight of their journey felt a little lighter, the shadows that had loomed so heavily now distant for a brief moment. They were far from safe, far from answers, but in this small cabin, with the fire crackling and the smell of warm food in the air, it felt like they had found something more important: each other.

And for now, that was enough.

The warmth of the fire lingered in the cabin as the three of them finished their breakfast. Outside, the wind had begun to pick up again, carrying with it the faint sound of distant rustling—branches, snow, or something more ominous. But for the moment, none of them seemed inclined to move. The quiet was too precious.

Katrina leaned back against the wall, her empty bowl resting on the floor beside her. Dream had curled up in her lap, purring softly, while Ghost sat near the door, his ears perked as he watched the room.

"You know," Katrina said, breaking the silence, "I don't think I've had a meal in weeks where I didn't have to look over my shoulder."

Jon, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Longclaw resting beside him, gave her a faint smirk. "You still looked over your shoulder three times during breakfast."

"Force of habit," she replied with a shrug. "I've spent most of my life waiting for something to jump out of the shadows."

Reynolds, seated by the fire with his golden eyes fixed on the flames, glanced at her. "Same here. Except I wasn't just waiting—they always came."

Katrina met his gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "It's exhausting, isn't it? Never feeling safe."

Reynolds nodded, his expression darkening. "It's like… the moment you think you're free, something pulls you back in."

Jon watched them quietly, his dark eyes thoughtful. "That's why we're here," he said after a moment. "To break that cycle. For good."

Katrina let out a dry laugh. "You make it sound so simple."

"It's not," Jon admitted. "But it's not impossible either."

Reynolds tilted his head, studying Jon. "You really believe that, don't you?"

Jon nodded, his voice steady. "I do. We've faced worse than this. And we'll face what's coming, together."

Katrina sighed, though there was a small smile on her lips. "You're annoyingly optimistic for someone who's seen as much as you have."

Jon smirked. "Someone has to be."

As the morning stretched on, they began packing up their supplies. The snow outside had thickened again, and the cold was biting, but they all knew they couldn't stay in the cabin for long. Whatever quiet moment they had claimed here wouldn't last.

While Jon checked their provisions, Katrina moved to the window, peering out at the snow-covered landscape. The mountains loomed in the distance, their jagged peaks shrouded in mist. Something about them set her on edge, though she couldn't quite place why.

"Something's out there," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Reynolds glanced up from where he was tightening the straps on his pack. "What do you mean?"

Katrina shook her head, her golden eyes narrowing. "I don't know. It's just a feeling."

Jon joined her at the window, his hand resting lightly on Longclaw's hilt. "Do you see anything?"

"No," Katrina said. "But that doesn't mean it's not there."

Jon's jaw tightened, his gaze scanning the horizon. "We'll keep moving. The longer we stay here, the more vulnerable we are."

Reynolds slung his pack over his shoulder, his expression cautious. "You think it's the shadows?"

Katrina nodded slowly. "It usually is."

They left the cabin shortly after, the wind biting at their faces as they trudged through the snow. Ghost moved ahead, his body low to the ground as he sniffed the air, while Dream perched on Katrina's shoulder, her ears twitching at every sound.

The silence of the forest was unnerving. Even the wind seemed muffled, as though the snow absorbed every noise. Jon kept close to Katrina, his dark eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement.

"How far do you think we'll get before it gets dark?" Reynolds asked, breaking the quiet.

"Not far," Jon replied. "The storm's picking up again. We'll need to find another place to stop."

Katrina frowned, her golden eyes flicking to the horizon. "We're moving too slow. Whatever's out there… it's waiting for us to slip up."

"Then we don't slip up," Jon said firmly. "We keep moving, we stay sharp, and we don't let it catch us off guard."

Reynolds glanced between them, his golden eyes narrowing. "Do you think it's… him? What's left of him, I mean."

Katrina's grip on her spear tightened. "I don't know. But if it is, he's not going to get what he wants."

Jon reached out, his hand brushing hers briefly. "He won't. Not while we're together."

Katrina met his gaze, her expression softening for a moment before she nodded. "Together."

They pressed on through the snow, the weight of the shadows looming ever closer. Whatever was out there, Katrina knew they couldn't avoid it forever.

But with Jon and Reynolds by her side, she felt a flicker of hope—fragile, but enough to keep her moving forward.