The Dragon's Silent Shadow
He fell backward, his hands desperately grabbing the bottom rung of the iron ladder just as the *Mammoth* surged forward.
His shoulder wrenched painfully. Below him, the massive, spiked treads chewed through the frozen earth, churning up mud, snow, and the remnants of crushed tents. If he let go, he would be pulled under the tracks and ground into paste.
*Let me help,* the Voice purred from the dark vault in his mind. *Just a little lift. A whisper of gravity...*
*No,* Tristan snarled internally. He gritted his teeth, his human muscles screaming under the strain of his own body weight. *I pull my own weight.*