Hyanon froze as soon as he heard the growl. His hand tingled, his fingers cupping the delicate ice-bloom that glowed with inner blue fire. The druids of the deep should have all been asleep. This was the designated time for hibernation. He peered around in the darkness, lit only by clumps of ice-blooms.
A shadow moved near him, a great head lifting from the sheet of ice that made up the floor of the cave. Faint light traced intricate symbols in the druid's thick fur as its eyes opened. Hyanon dropped the ice-bloom, the delicate petals shattering on contact with the ice below. He threw his hands up in a warding gesture, but the druid's spell slid past his defense like ice gliding through water. The ice at his feet enveloped his legs and Hyanon sank into the clutches of ice.
A rough voice grated his ears as a numbing chill climbed his body. ``Did you know that our ice-blossoms grow upon the tombs of fallen poachers? Soon you shall bloom.``