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A novel of Frost: prologue

Frost breathed in the wonderful smells of Spring, his picnic, and the sweet scent of his mother. “Mum,” he started to ask, “isn’t Spring just wonderful?” He sighed happily. His mother nodded and smiled. “I think my favorite season is Winter, but spring is nice.” Frost looked up at mother in surprise.

“Winter! But that’s when everything dies and it’s so cold out!”

Mother laughed and put her arm around Frost. “But it’s the season my little frost wolf grew up in-” mother stopped, her eyes wide. She gasped and choked, looking down at the sword that had burst through her stomach.

Frost screamed and looked at the man clad in black as he ripped out the sword and sheathed it. The last he saw of the “man” was a toothy smile and wings bursting out of his back. Then, the “man” flew away, leaving Frost with his mother’s corpse.

“Mum,” he wailed, “Mum, wake up, please!” He hugged her body and sobbed, unable to do anything, think of anything, but of his dead mother.


A rather short prologue, but one nonetheless. I hope you’ve enjoyed this, the first chapter will be coming soon. Have a good day, reader.


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