“Many people have gotten lost out there and never found again. It's easy to get disoriented with nothing but white around you, even easier to freeze to death trying to find your way back.”

“Morgan's temper flared again, and she raised the staff again, intent on beating the answers out of him if she had to. "You used to be a chosen, too - I know you were. These were your friends, too, and now they're dying. Don't you care?”

“Have you ever heard of someone actually being eaten by a dragon? That's just an ugly rumor that lots of people passed out a long time ago, trying to give dragons a bad name." He seemed to think about it for a couple of moments. "But you probably still don't want to upset any of them too much, just in case.”

“The council said that we needed hep from a human... so here I am. You see," the haltija looked around to be sure that they were alone and that nobody else could overhear before continuing. "We need your help.”

“Morgan could feel her cheeks burning hot as the freezing air drew the heat from her. Her fingers ached as they pushed, and her breath clouded the air before her, making it difficult to see. Her nose burned and her eyes watered, but she kept pushing, Breathing was quickly becoming difficult, because the more cold air she sucked in, the harder it was to draw the next breath.”

“Morgan watched in shock as her friend fell, all of her anger draining out of her. She knelt next to him and rolled him onto his back. His breathing was ragged, as though he had to fight for every gulp of air he took.”

“Most humans, they seem to prattle on about this and that, not even really seeming to care about what they are saying so long as someone is listening.”