21
Fern
The howling continued long into the night. I lay in Svein’s arms, listening. Dagg sounded like a wounded animal.
What would I do if it was too late? If their minds were truly lost? I had come so far and risked too much to fail them.
“Get on with you,” Svein raised his head and called into the darkness. “She’s not for you, or me. Not anymore.” His body was tense as he lay back down. “Don't cry, little one.” He said to me. “It will be all right.”
Nodding against his chest, I swiped the tears from my cheeks. Svein smelled of snow, and wood smoke, and damp fur. Solid scents that comforted me. My legs tangled with his, and the heat from his body warmed me.
But Dagg was still out there, howling in the snow, alone. Even when the sound stopped, I stayed awake a long time.
Svein woke
