At the mention of this ‘Wilson’ character, Astrid stopped working and looked at him again, trying to decipher what he meant. It sounded as though they had both been captured and put into the pit, because of an altercation that…Wilson landed them in? Because he was too weak to fight back? Was Wilson still back there fighting for his life, or had he already been killed? In any case, whomever this Wilson was, it was clear that Woodsly blamed him for his ills. Choosing to avoid this particular line of discussion, given Woodsly’s obvious distaste for Wilson, she went back to her work, tilting crushed herbs into one of the empty jars.
“I disagree. Two people embittered by other people have common ground upon which to build. We may agree on more than we don’t, and that will make this whole arrangement far more bearable than it would be otherwise,” she replied, shooting him a short, dry smile.
She nodded when he declined extra pain relief. Some people didn’t like the tired feeling it gave them—it was why she had given him such a modest dose to begin with. If he could handle it, she wouldn’t press.
She stopped suddenly and stared ahead with narrowed eyes, as if she were listening for something. She couldn’t be certain what, but something had triggered her wards.
“I’ll be right back.”
Setting aside the mortar and pestle, she immediately went to the farthest, most cluttered corner of the room. She shifted several things aside and withdrew an old, well-used rifle, loading a few rounds and pocketing a few more just in case. Grabbing her coat but leaving her hat and scarf behind, she opened the door just enough to peek through, then stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Packing the gun against her shoulder, she ventured down the short steps and out into the snow, scanning the trees around her with a keen eye. It was likely an animal, but with Woodsly’s presence and the story he had given her, one couldn’t be too careful. The woods were silent and snow had begun falling at some point since the last time she had been outside. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling out the break in her protections. Once she tracked it down, she turned and headed straight for it, gun locked against her shoulder and her finger seating itself against the trigger in preparation.
Sure enough, it was a bear.
Astrid immediately relaxed, lowering the gun with an annoyed sigh. “You again.”
The bear blinked at her expectantly and sat gracelessly on his haunches. Muttering some colorful curses under her breath, Astrid stalked back to her cold storage shed and dug out some of the salmon she had stored there, then retraced her steps back to where the bear still sat, holding it out to him. “You should be sleeping. Bears hibernate, remember? It’s suspicious, you walking about while the rest of them are holed up in their dens.”
The bear whined at her, taking the offered fish in his teeth with a strange care.
“Now go on,” she demanded, pointing back the way the bear had come. “Learn how to fish, stop bringing down my wards, and for the love of the gods learn to act like a bear.”
The bear nosed at her coat with another whine, then turned and loped back into the woods without a backward glance. Shaking her head, she leaned the rifle against a nearby trunk and crouched down to the ground, holding her hands out. She murmured something under her breath, and the broken ward jumped back to life, re-forging the protections she had put down after coming across Woodsly the night before.
That done, she turned to make her way back to the cabin.
