Snow

Pivoting, ignoring the dragon, she flew through the forest for Naomi—for the only important thing. Around her, the storm dropped the temperature of the woods to match her cold heart, her breath fogging as though it were a December midnight. Rain that streaked from the sky turned to snow and moisture in the forest froze to slick patches; tree trunks brittled with clinging frost.
Saxby crashed through the forest, toppled icy trees, and came at her on all fours. He intercepted her at a clearing, spitting a barrage of spines from his throat. Ryn sank behind a fallen trunk, quills thudding into the log’s other side, thick as a porcupine’s hide.
More quills sprouted from the ridge of his spine and his pointed elbows, each dripping venom. They furred his claws, bristled along the softness of his underbelly. “I’ll bet he’s got her blood on him by now.” He spat a volley, heaved another from his tail, reared to fire a thicket of them from underneath his coils. But Ryn danced between them; she flicked between trees, always seeming to find another thing to duck behind as he launched his next barrage.
He’s stalling me. She cut to his flank and tried to outrun him, but he gave chase and his body lengthened, growing yet more serpentine, winding through the forest in her wake with only trees, ridges, and stones to cover her from his glistening barbs.

~*~

Snow fell heavy through the air and settled into branches, whose cooling sap made them crackle when they swayed. It was snowing in June, during the time of raspberries and fireflies, and Naomi had never been so cold. The temperature stung her nostrils and lit her breath silver.

Chapter 22, Page 336-337

Ryn sprinted between two rows of trees glazed in crystalline encasements from roots to highest boughs. The forest groaned at the sudden drop in temperature, trunks threatening to burst from the pressure of expanding water within.

Chapter 22, Page 338