Corvi tried and failed to suppress another shiver. The Deathless Mother’s touch was all over this place—in the darkened sky, in the cold, in the snow that clung to her fur. How could she have not seen it before? But then, she had never been blessed with a priestess’s power. She was grounded in only that which she could she and smell and hear and touch. If she had been able to work spells as her mother had, perhaps she wouldn’t be here at all.

Despite everything, something in the blonde wolf’s manner set her at ease. He was charming and friendly, and so far had only helped her. She grinned at him when he caught his portion. Something about him made her wonder if he really was just a simple hillfolk, as he said, but for now she kept that to herself. Everyone had their secrets, after all, and Corvi felt no need to pry.

Nicely done, she said before digging into her meal. One skinny rooster hadn’t been enough for her, that much was apparent, but she devoured the hen with slightly more decorum.And you as well, Rivers.

She paused and licked her lips at his question.

Somovo is a small village, she answered with shrug. Once, we were more, but each harvest is worse than the last. Many already left. I hunt for those of us who remain.

The Deathless Mother’s power is greatest in winter. Usually she waits for the desperate and hungry to approach her. Oh, she’ll help you, Corvi said bitterly. But you’ll wish she hadn’t.

She spat out a small bone on the snow nearby in disgust.

What about these hillfolk of yours? Your spirits are more…friendly?