A group of hunters returned from an early patrol, their sled loaded with fresh game. Women carried baskets of bread from the ovens, steam rising in the cold. Children practiced with wooden swords near the training yard, their shouts bright and unafraid.
An elder sat with apprentices under a sheltered awning, teaching them how to read the wind for coming storms. The ordinary rhythm continued, stubborn and warm, and she drew strength from it.
Magnus found her near the central fire as the sun climbed higher. He had been working with the joint patrol captains, coordinating the new eastern watch posts. His cloak was dusted with snow, but his eyes were clear and focused. "The first joint patrol returned. No new signs of corruption. The land feels quieter. Your decision to push the trade agreement with the village is already bearing fruit. They sent a messenger with thanks and a small offering of preserved fish."
