17
The sharp snap of thin branches came with every step. The flatness of the valley was a relief, but I’d never been so glad to be wearing a long skirt in my life. At least the thick folds of the material offered a bit of protection from the twigs constantly jabbing at my legs. And at least the pain of the poking distracted me from the valley.
There was nothing truly frightening about the valley. The ground held firm, the wind smelled of new spring growth. But I couldn’t get rid of the chill on my neck.
As the sun crept farther down, Liam began gathering wood as we walked, picking up the thickest of the branches that had fallen from the low bushes.
“Does this mean we’ll get to have a fire tonight?” I gathered a handful of twigs and tucked them into my bag.
“We’ll need one.” He pointed
