The first swing of my pick sent a sharp crack echoing across the silent lake, and the largest wolf stopped thrashing to look at me. Its eyes were amber and filled with a terrifyingly human recognition of its own end.
I began to hack away at the solid edge, trying to create a ramp of sorts for them to climb out. The physical exertion was immense, and my breath came out in ragged, freezing plumes that stung my throat. The wolves seemed to understand what I was doing, shifting their weight toward the area I was clearing. One of them let out a low, mournful whine that vibrated through the ice beneath my knees.
I was only inches from the freezing water now, the smell of wet fur and ancient mud filling my nose. If the ice gave way, there would be no one to pull me out.
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