Chapter 25A chill gnawed Rune's bare shoulders. Half-asleep and disgruntled, he pulled at the furs, slapping the edge of the blankets as he yanked them higher. Buried deep within the pocket of warmth, Rune groaned with a stubborn irritation that wouldn't ebb. The unmistakable snap of cold bit the top of his head left exposed to the open air.
He tried to remember if he had been hunting with Bergen, and tossed the idea from his head before foraging for a more reasonable explanation. Wallowing in his bad temperament, he recalled the evening prior and, in a torrent of temper, Rune whipped off the pile of furs and stomped to his feet, clenching his teeth against the cold that pierced his flesh.
Eager to purge his miserable mood at the first passerby, Rune looked about and grew more irate at t
