The northern wind whipped fiercely, carrying snowflakes that clung to the ice elves' armor as they cautiously advanced across the vast frozen desert.
Syalin led the group, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of the enemy. Behind her, her elite warriors maintained a precise formation, their weapons ready for any eventuality.
They had set out at dawn, following the trail left by the hooded men who had attacked the Frostwind tribe. Though the footprints and marks in the snow were fresh, the frozen terrain was a challenge even for them. The hooded men had used harpies for their retreat, making the chase even more difficult.
"The trail disperses here," one of the warriors said, crouching down to inspect the footprints. It was Raelis, the group's tracker, known for his keen perception. Syalin approached, frowning. The tracks seemed to fade away abruptly as if the invaders had vanished into thin air.
