Cesar is a wolf

It takes me a few minutes when I wake up to truly

understand why the trees are racing past me, and why my bed smells like an animal. When I finally realize that I'm on the back of a running horse, my eyes fly open as my mouth emits a gasp that startles the rider.

My hands and feet are bound together and I'm tied to the horse so tightly that I wouldn't fall off if the mount took a tricky turn or jump. Snow is fresh on this ground, so I know that we're far from where the camp was. I don't say anything when the horse begins to slow down.

There are other men on horseback, their armour gleaming in the bright sunlight, their breath rolling from their lips like puffs of dragon smoke. The bitter winter cold bites at my cheeks and nose, making the normal porcelain white skin turn a rather odd shade of scarlet.

The pounding of horse hooves against the ground echoes in my head, their strong legs powering through the light snow that would normally slow them down quite a bit. But these horses are