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Though Nerys would never freely admit it, Isara’s rejection of the offer to ride with her stung. She couldn’t blame the girl; considering the friction between them it only made sense, but the undercurrent of condescension she felt coming off of her was still cutting. Nonetheless, the former...

It should have been a wretched night. Filled with nightmares and tossing and a thousand miseries. It was the least that she deserved, no matter what they said. Instead, Nerys slept deeply and well. It was only when Kasian began to shift, voices beginning to unfurl throughout the still morning...

With a delicate shiver, Nerys leaned gratefully into the returned embrace that Kasian offered her. Burrowing her head against his chest and listening quietly to the racing heartbeat against her ear. Was he afraid of her? Was that why it sped so? Or was it lingering adrenaline from everything...

Kasian’s fingers—so clever and confident under normal circumstances—were warm and soothing on her back. Needing it, needing the comfort, Nerys leaned into the touch, doing her level best to keep from getting overly emotional and bawling in front of them. But she still couldn’t find it in...

Perhaps it was the warmth of the fire or perhaps it was the gentle touch on his shoulder that some part of him simply knew was Isara. Regardless, Rikard found himself drawing out of the limbo between oblivion and consciousness that he had previously found himself in. It was wakefulness that now...

Leaving Rikard lying on the warm back of the horse, Vidar was quick to spring off and begin setting up a warm shelter to put the wounded boy. Sleeping furs were settled over a canvas sheet to keep away the damp, and a tarp efficiently tied from one of the trees at an angle to both block the wind...

Everything was confusion and pain. It was from a dim distance that Rikard realized that the flailing strikes with his dagger had failed, that the scout now hovered above him ready to bring down a death blow. Fear was small and only niggling within him, confusion and dizzying pain taking up the...

Rikard had no desire to die. But, far worse than his own potentially imminent demise, was the sight of Isara in his peripheral vision—a dagger held to her throat. He could not bear that. Could not live with the thought of her being gone while he was forced to exist. And it was clear that their...

The expression on Rikard’s face softened in something approximating sadness as Isara declared that whatever man she chose would have a heart like his. A man of the sort that Vidar could approve of. A part of him, deep inside, wanted to scream ‘can that not be me?’ but he forced the feeling down...

A residual beaming seemed to hover around Rikard like a nearly visible aura, beginning from the moment that Isara had replied to his joke that his chest had been quite comfortable the previous night. It had not altered through the early progression of their ride, nor could it quite be felled by...

The decision that Isara made led to three separate reactions: first was Rikard, who brightened visibly, a smile lighting up every line and facet of his expression. The second was Nerys, her pleasure at the thought of riding with Vidar kept as muted as possible for Isara’s sake. The last… was...

Rather than offering him any kind of real reply, Isara simply offered Rik a small smile. But that was more than enough for him. So long as she didn’t look sad or frown at him, he was perfectly content. A song sprang its way to his lips and Rikard was whistling a cheerful little ditty under his...

The peaceful silence of their room remained unbroken. The only sounds were the rhythmic repetition of their breathing, the muted crackling of what remained of the fire and the occasional low whistle as the wind angled through opportunistic gaps in the clapboard facing of the inn. It was a little...

With Isara tucked against his chest, everything felt right in Rikard’s world. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ her promise echoed in his mind, wreathing around him comfortingly as dreams beckoned him away. But he lingered in consciousness long enough to feel her press closer to him, to hear her joke...

As Isara settled herself onto the mattress, Rikard blew out a slow, steadying, breath, letting the blanket fall over them both once she was within reach of his arms. This is nothing unusual, he kept telling himself, Don’t make things uncomfortable for her. As though she were thinking nearly the...

@Fyuri @Erato “I suppose that is one storm I’ll simply have to weather when the time comes,” Thane said at last, attempting to summon up a picture of the woman Dahlia was describing in his mind. It did not particularly surprise him that her mother was fierce. Clearly misguided as well...

The pair entered the inn and Rikard stamped his boots with great enthusiasm against the creaky wooden floor. There was no thick mat in this establishment for the snow to melt into, so instead he found himself standing in a cloudy puddle formed by other patrons who had come before them. As the...

Feeling a little bit lost, Rikard watched their four companions disappear into the warmth of the inn. He’d spent plenty of time alone with Isara. Plenty of nights back to back to keep out the chill. But just the pair of them sharing a drafty room in an inn felt… strange. Different. And he wasn’t...

Perhaps sulky over his misfortune and Kasian’s good luck, Orynn was silent through the bulk of the ride. This suited Rikard just fine. He had been prepared for spitting barbs, unwanted touches, and general unpleasantness so silence was a mercy. Well… it was, but as the ride stretched and the...

Orynn leaned over Rikard with menace in both expression and voice, but Rik only peered back up at him, completely unphased. “What? You want my tool so badly that you’ll take it from me? Gods, I’m in worse trouble than I thought…” he said with a false sweetness that didn’t reach his eyes...