Ari was struggling, face drawn and grey with the effort of moving through the forestlands. Her sorrow followed her like a long shadow, dragging its feet and weighing her down, as if caught wherever she went, on the low hanging tree branches and dry undergrowth. Sastra was sure they must be near the fjord and found herself cursing her own lack of geographic knowledge. How could it be this difficult to find such a large mark within the landscape, a scar upon the earth, one she thought she might hear before she saw. Soaked with the constant rain, tired and hungry, the two women moved through the trees, their exhaustion burning in the soles of their feet and deep within their joints. Ari leaned heavily upon the fallen princess, her dark hair no longer kept in its neat horse tail. It clung to h
