Brook took his jacket and wiped the rest of her mud from her face, then held her face in his arms. “Will you look?”
Her protests turned to wonder at the soft white tufts falling from the sky. Like curls from a bunny’s tail, but smaller and more perfect. She was again in the warmth of her home, dancing around the room with her father, his most favorite bunny.
“Is that snow?” Meadow asked. “In the Westerlands?”
“Are we even in the Westerlands?” Brook asked.
“We haven’t gone that far, Brook!”
“How would you know, you didn’t even know where the Hinterlands was?”
“Have you even been covering our tracks? Is that wulves I hear?”
“Hush, both of you,” Gabrianna hissed, tearing herself from Brook’s wary grip. “Help me get this mule free, and then we’ll go until we find a place to hide.”
“Hid
