© J.B. Norman — Published by Emona Literary Services™
“We’re on a mountain,” Matilda notes. “Why are we on a mountain?”
A cold wind comes screaming down the mountain and sweeps over the Lyte Brigade.
“And it’s supposed to be Spring,” she continues. “This does not feel like Spring!”
“At this altitude, the progression of the seasons doesn’t really work like it normally would, Miss Matilda,” Tancred notes,
Somehow, Matilda is sure this is all Nolan’s fault.
“Um,” Nolan says cautiously, slowly scanning the Lyte Brigade’s snowy surroundings. “Where’s Pela?”
Given the depths of the snowdrifts and the fact that he realises he hasn’t seen the Half-Goblin recently, he’s starting to have a very bad feeling.
“I’m over here,” Pela calls from the other side of Matilda and Amara.
Nolan blinks. “Oh,” he murmurs. “Hey, Pela.”
“Nolan,” Pela sighs. “Did you think I got buried in the snow?”
Nolan’s eyes uneasily shift from side to side.
“…Yes,” he admits.
“Did you not see my snowshoes?” Pela asks. “I’m wearing them specifically so I don’t sink into the snow. I am half-Dwarf, and the Dwarves have lived up in the mountains for centuries. I know how to handle being short in the snow.”
Nolan blinks. “Oh.”
“But, hey,” Pela continues. “Thanks for looking out for me. Sometimes you hear how guilds are all impersonal and the Captains are real jerks who just boss everyone around. It’s nice to feel appreciated.”
“Thanks, Pela,” Nolan replies.
“It is nice to feel appreciated,” Matilda agrees. “And not frozen in the middle of Spring. Nolan.”
“But, seriously,” Pela continues. “I know how to do mountains. Heck, I’m probably handling this better than anybody else. Well, expect maybe Falcata…”
She turns to where the towering Amazon is currently grappling with the wolf that leapt out of the snow.
“Did you call me?” Falcata asks, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Do you require some assistance, Miss Falcata?” Tancred calls.
“No. I can manage,” Falcata answers, restraining the wolf’s snapping jaws by catching them under her arm.
“I do feel a little guilty about doing nothing,” Amara notes.
“We could offer moral support, at least,” Tancred offers.
“Preferably from a distance,” Pela says.
“You’ve got this, Falcata!” Matilda calls, her arms wrapped around herself. “I’d clap, but this is the warmest I’ve been in hours.”
Continuing to wrestle with the wolf, Falcata manages to flip it over her head and dump it on its back in the snow. When it gets back onto its feet, it timidly slinks off.
“So,” Falcata says, striding back towards the other members of the Lyte Brigade. “Lovely day, is it not?”
“No!” Matilda cries. “It’s cold. It’s windy. It’s supposed to be Spring, but we’re stuck in eight feet of snow! And now there are wolves after us!”
“Well,” Nolan offers with his traditional relentless optimism. “We dealt with the wolves, and once as we get over the big, white snowbank on the ridge, we’ve gone far enough that the rest of the journey is downhill.”
“The, uh, big, white snowbank is snoring,” Pela notes.
“Oh good,” Tancred notes. “It’s stopped. It was probably just the snow and ice settling.”
“It, uh,” Pela continues. “It’s looking at us.”
“That’s no snowbank,” Amara says, the colour draining from her face until she’s almost as pale as the snow.
“That’s a bear,” Pela groans.
Falcata steps forward with an eager grin on her face. “Leave it to me.”
Matilda is absolutely sure this is somehow Nolan’s fault.
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