"There is something out there," Jason begins to say, but by the time his mouth has finished the words there are already bone things scuttling out from his steed's mouth.

Jason watches in something like morbid fascination. It's a handy, skin-crawling sort of trick.

"--if we can get to barer ground," he says after a few seconds of watching the white spider-like things skitter off into the snow, "I can stand on my own feet; it's merely this snow which makes it to deep for me to effectively fight. There are rock outcroppings ahead."

The wolves, meanwhile, are snapping and snarling at the first bone things to come within reach.