Xu Qing huddled by the reindeer pen, watching elders fill hide bladders with pungent urine. His frost-whitened nose peeked through layers of furs, eyes glowing blue behind goggles. "Granny Wang, tie the bladders tight. Only frozen solid can crack iron hooves."
The old woman rapped his goggles with her wooden ladle. "Since when does our milk-thief know reindeer tricks?" Her cackle sent frost flakes shaking from wrinkles. "Last winter you stole fermented milk behind my shed!"
The youth curled tighter into his furs. "Granny, that was..." His whisper dropped as he eyed the urine icebergs. "After driving off Ironblood... I'll take you to mine 'Frost Tears' - darkfire shards sweeter than reindeer milk."
Elders' laughter echoed across the tundra. None noticed children secretly painting Frostwolf Totems on urine bladders - bait to trigger war-bears' ancestral fear during polar night.
Ironclaw's bone axe shattered a frozen dung chunk. He glared at Xu Qing demonstrating "frostweb" traps. "You send warriors to ice crevasses while old women piss on enemies? Mocking our battle-prowess?"
Xu Qing's goggles slipped as he waved frantic paws. "Brother misunderstands! Spiderwebs choke the crevasses - only your strength..." Leaning close, his whisper carried tactical steel: "The frostweb knots require triple bear-tendon twists. Women's hands lack the grip."
The warrior-chief's eyes narrowed at Xu Qing's flying fingers tying "venomspider snares" - knots known only to veteran hunters. Three moons ago, this mouse could barely hold a spear. Now he crushed ice spikes barehanded. "Rat..." Ironclaw turned, ear-tips flushing under auroras. "Mind your piss-cloud troops. If I break claws in crevasses..."
Xu Qing knelt before Frosthorn, staring at the chieftain's shattered war-claw. The darkfire glint at its tip mirrored his own claw-glow. "Elder," he unrolled reindeer-hide battle plans. "Urine fog teams deployed at hotspring vents. Ironback's copper cauldrons stand on wooden frames - children carved Frostwolf fang marks into the legs."
Frosthorn's staff pinned the "Graybear Southern Stables" map marker. "Children? Five-winter-old Tiger Cubs carving marks?"
Xu Qing scratched his aurora-pale ear-tips. "Small hands reach frame gaps. And..." He produced honey-glazed jerky. "Ten carvings per honey strip. Ironblood's war-bears fear no claws... but our 'Honey-Fang Cubs'?"
The elder's laughter shook firepit embers. "Your father bribed warriors with honeycombs to blast enemy camps." His voice darkened. "But Cubs don't know wolf-marked frames shrink when heated... spilling boiling tar on allies."
Xu Qing shuddered, realizing Frosthorn saw through his "divine wrath" ploy yet permitted it. Studying his calcifying claws, he found Granny Wang's "charm" - dung shard wedged between nails.
Snowclaw crouched beside Xu Qing stuffing frozen dung into pouches. "Whitefang, truly charging with piss troops? Ironclaw says they bring war-bear cavalry—"
The youth suddenly curled into a snowdrift. "Brother save me! Just a humble ore-carrier..." A urine-stained paw thrust out clutching a pouch. "Darkfire dust inside. When bears charge... throw at eyes. Aurora-light will magnify glare worse than reindeer piss."
Snowclaw traced the Frostwolf emblem stitched on the pouch. Three nights prior, Xu Qing had taught him to identify three types of horseshoe nails in snow - without goggles. "Whitefang," he murmured. "Your ear-fur glows brighter than northern lights."
The crouching figure stiffened, shrinking smaller. "N-nonsense! Urine fumes bleaching fur..."