Another no-claw—this one with fur growing from his muzzle—stepped forward and pointed a different stick at her. Kallik felt a sharp scratch in her side. She yelped and jumped back, pawing at the spot where she’d been scratched. She was surprised that it didn’t hurt very much. Surely this wasn’t the pain of the death sticks that the she-bear had warned her about? Then she realized that the world around her was getting fuzzy. She felt as if her mind was melting like the ice. Everything around her was getting blurrier, like she was seeing it through a dense fog. Kallik blinked, trying to stay awake. Was this what dying felt like? She didn’t want to die here, so far from the ice. But she couldn’t fight the weight pressing down on her mind. She slid to the ground, feeling her paws go limp. Slowly her eyes closed, and she sank into blackness. When Kallik opened her eyes again, she was surrounded by white—bright, blistering white. Not snow. Something else that was cold and hard and didn’t feel right.
