"H-hey, you," Vica mumbled between chattering teeth and frozen lips. Her hands felt like driftwood chunks left to freeze in a river; her feet were little better. She could hardly twitch her limbs, much less push herself to her feet to greet the boy peering into her torn hide tent. "Fire kept b-blowing out, couldn't keep it warm f-for you." She managed to unclasp her hands from around her folded knees and gestured clumsily in front of herself. "Room f-for you. Sit, Oren. Good to s-see you."
It had been a long time since they'd last met, nearly half a year. Or had it been longer? She didn't remember anymore. It felt like a lifetime ago that she'd seen the elf last, long before the world had changed again, and again, and again. It was almost like coming face to face with a memory out of time
