“
I ran again, losing myself amongst my water-wolves. Some of the soldiers were taking to the sky, flapping upward, backtracking.
So my wolves grew wings, and talons, and became falcons and hawks and eagles.
They slammed into their bodies, their armour, drenching them. The airborne soldiers, realising they hadn't been drowned, halted their flight and laughed- sneering.
I lifted a hand skyward, and clenched my fingers into a fist.
The water soaking them, their wings, their armour, their faces... It turned to ice.
Ice that was so cold it had existed before light, before the sun had warmed the earth. Ice of a land cloaked in winter, ice from the parts of me that felt no mercy, no sympathy for what these creatures had done and were doing to my people.
Frozen solid, dozens of the winged soldiers fell to the earth as one. And shattered upon the cobblestones.
My wolves raged around me, tearing and drowning and hunting. And those that fled them, those that took to the skies- they froze and shattered; froze and shattered. Until the streets were laden with ice and gore and broken bits of wing and stone.
Until the screaming of my people stopped, and the screams of the soldiers became a song in my blood.
”
”
Sarah J. Maas (A Court of Mist and Fury (A Court of Thorns and Roses, #2))