Chapter 102

Otter and I did not reach the Mead until dark. After supping and bathing, he seemed in a spleen over the prospect of a long separation from his people. Seeking diversion, we took out the chess set, and his mood eased. Sensing he was loath to go to his own bed, I suggested he move his blankets before the fireplace in my room, an offer he readily accepted.

Before the northers wailed snowflake tears, we saw to our winter needs. Food was plentiful, wood and chips were stored, our brook ran cold and clear, the animals were put away safely, and I would not be alone again this year. For the first time since Lone Eagle left, my spirits rose.