Deborah herself wore a heavy fur-lined cloak with hood, warm fur-lined boots, and fur-lined breeches; yet as she helped the dark-haired Pixie up onto the saddle before her, she could feel the incongruous warmth of the girl’s skin.
Pran, too, wore only his usual travelling clothes, covered only by a light cape and hood to keep himself dry.
‘I should have been born a Pixie,’ Deborah muttered to herself, though she was far from cold. ‘Or an Elf.’
‘Pixie!’ pronounced Éha indignantly, causing Deborah to smile, and Pran to chuckle quietly.
Mraan didn’t see the sense in running from wolves, and said so. He suggested that they climb a tree and stay there, but Haloch shook his head, urged him on, and to silence.
Coming suddenly to the top of a steep slope, and out of the forest, they began making their way downhill. The leafless trees were sparse here, and afforded them little or no cover, growing only in small clumps or individually. The snow had stopped, and the air was shrouded by streamers of mist like low cloud. At the bottom of the hill, the forest closed in once again. In the distance, atop a rise, a single hill stood out to their immediate right. It was perfectly round, and densely covered with evergreens, marking the end of the deciduous forest. They sensed something watchful about it, but also that it lacked the threat of whatever was following them.