Krosstoen Valley

She woke up as soon as the chill hit her back. Groaning in protest, she wrapped herself up in the cloak and blanket again. Fucking brr, man! Hayan left the tent reluctantly and shook her head at the layer of snow. She curled her lip grumpily as well and helped him with things. She at least had mittens to cover her cold hands. "Keep moving," she said to herself, "Will keep you warm." She rubbed her arms and tried to keep moving.

Trudging through snow sapped her, but still no complaints. But nature had a different idea for them, for it began to snow in earnest. Soon, it became apparent that visibility was going to put a damper on their plans. If they did not find a safe place to weather out the storm, things would probably turn deadly.

She was so freakin cold as she scrambled to get into the tent. She immediately wrapped herself in her cloak to try and get the job done. She pulled her mittens off and rubbed her hands together to produce some blood flow, glad to feel the burning sensation from the digits warming up.

"This should be the last bit of winter, spring is nigh... If we do have to wait, it will only be for a short time." She took the offered blanket. After struggling to down dinner, she wrapped herself up tightly and lay on her side, watching him quietly. She wanted to ask him why he was caustic in general, but she'd learned enough to know the question would not be welcomed and it was left hanging in space. Instead, she merely watched him.

At some point, however, she said, "If I offered... No, never mind." She rolled so her back was to him, feeling stupid. She had been about to offer herself in companionship just for the night, no expectations of what the next day might bring, no strings, but was not sure if he would think it stupid of her. "You would probably think it was stupid anyways," she said quietly enough he might not hear it.

She caught the amusement, smiled and chuckled... The chuckle was a throaty, pleasant sound that died down after a few seconds. "You're right... Too late for that." Then she rolled over and pressed closer because the shared body heat, whether platonic or not, was smart and there was no sense being shy at least about spooning in the cold. She wasn't ashamed to invade his personal space at that moment, even if her thoughts were quite the opposite of what a former nun should be thinking. If he was laying down by that point, she would fit nicely against him... If he was sitting up, she would kind f curl around him... And it was clear she was not trying to annoy, she didn't wiggle around a lot or anything, it was clear she was sharing body heat. Again. She at least had the knowledge of that much, for she used to share her bed with her daughter and her daughter always cuddled into her when she was cold.

She assumed nothing about his indifference, but would have backed away had he said to do so, but she would definitely take what little he gave in the way of contact. She fell asleep almost as soon as he did, tired. When he would wake up next, she would probably still be in the same spot, looking exhausted but peaceful. The trip seemed to be wearing her down a little, but she still did not complain about things.

As soon as he left, she sighed and woke up, for the chill hit through the flap in the wake of his exiting the tent. Blast the man! She gave an unladylike curse and tried to reserve what warmth she could before giving up and exiting the tent. A neutral expression crossed her face as she peered at him. If it was still dark, she'd shake her head and retreat back to the tent.

She reluctantly began to work on gathering firewood as well, and worked on stacking it. She started using whatever dry kindling she could to get the fire going, but it really was a pain in the snow. She eventually got a small baby fire going and added firewood as he brought it. By the time he was done, she was starting to prepare breakfast.

She kept her gaze on the pot as she stirred a hot porridge, and felt the same way, then said softly, "I am not sorry." With that, she dumped a spoonful of oats into a bowl before handing it over without adieu, turning her back so she could serve herself, and sitting alone. She was acting indifferent from then on, packing when it was time, banking the fire, et cetera...

She remained quiet, a stony silence just like he gave to her. He didn't care, she thought, he preferred the silence. She resolved that she would just... Settle in the town or something, not bother him anymore. Problem was, her belly knotted up and she was forced to pretend she didn't care either.