There was no retreat here. If they let the dead spill into the North, they would not be able to stop them anymore, and all would be lost. Yet his men were just as tired as he was and were now slowly being pushed back. The mad slaughter caused by a single White Walker might have doomed them all. The Lord of Last Heart finally managed to fish out the flints from within his cloak. He desperately hit the two pieces of stone, yet the sparks were drowned by the falling snowy veil.