Ralph and the Pixie

‘I hope, for both your sake, that you realize what you’re doing,’ Pran said.

Ralph was thoughtful for a time, but declined to respond. Instead, reaching over and opening a flap of the wagon’s canvas covering, noting that new day’s false dawn that was passing incrementally into grey morning twilight, he said, ‘It’s getting colder. Do you know what season it is outside?’

‘If you mean “outside the Elf Kingdom,” I do not know. I have not set foot outside it since my youth, when curiosity used to prompt me to explore, somewhat,’ Pran responded. ‘But as we are still a day from the border and it is becoming increasingly colder, to venture a guess, I would say that it is probably winter.’

Ralph was worried about this. ‘Pran, if we’re heading into early or even mid-winter . . . we only have food enough to last a month; two at the most, it we really stretch things.’

‘Do not be overly concerned,’ said Pran with his habitual irony. ‘Food will be the least of our problems.’

Malina made a noise in her sleep, moving against him in a way that was suggestive of more than a simple search for warmth. Ralph noticed, with a pang, that she was smiling. With a rueful look, he said, ‘Despite everything, I can never get over how resilient she’s been, since the beginning.’