Howling sub-zero winds whipped across the desolate stone expanse of Frost-Wind Crossroads, kicking up swirls of grey sleet and ice shards between Tiger Ridge to the north and Fox Valley to the south.
High up on the northern granite watchtowers, three thousand shivering White-Tiger Clan border scouts huddled behind frost-cracked shields, chewing on frozen strips of dried jerky as hard as shoe leather.
Across the canyon on the southern cliff ledges, three thousand Nine-Tailed Sky-Fox sentries wrapped their static-frizzed tails around their ears to keep out the biting cold, their stomachs growling in unison.
“Another freezing night in Frost-Wind Gorge...” a scarred White-Tiger captain named Hu Biao muttered, blowing warm breath into his frostbitten paws. “Word from the clan hall says three envoys from Crimson-Bone Citadel are flying here tonight with chests of Blood-Gold to hire our White-Tiger cavalry for a war.
None of us want to fight for those corpse-stinking Blood-Sea Emperors—but if we don’t buy winter coal before next month, the little cubs in the nursery caves will freeze...”
“Look down in the crossroads!” a young tiger scout beside him suddenly pointed his spear down into the dark gorge. “Captain Hu Biao!
Did a star just fall out of the clouds into the middle of the canyon?!”
