Snowflakes drifted lazily from the slate-colored sky, but the peaceful descent lasted only seconds.
A low rumble stirred beneath the mountains— faint at first, like distant thunder. Then it grew, deeper, louder, until the ground itself shivered beneath the wizards' boots.
The first roar cracked the silence like a lightning strike. Dozens more followed, merging into a deafening chorus. Shadows moved in the treeline, and the distant slopes erupted with movement.
It was not an avalanche.
It was worse.
"Magical beast tide!" Someone shouted.
The words shattered whatever courage the group had left. Faces drained of color. In a flurry of cloaks, they scattered in every direction.
But the beasts were faster.
