She slowly made her way outside as the woman, Runa, cared for Sigurd.

The weather would've unmanned any sane person. It howled with the lives it had taken before, yet the bite that it held didn't phase her. Her hair whipped in front of her face as she watched the black mass roll by above her. Only did she catch brief glimpses of the moon as flurries touched her cheeks.

Something shuffled in the nearby wood, taking her attention away from the dreary sky and to the noise. She watched the area closely for several minutes, it failing to move again. She hesitated, debating whether going and investigating, before she finally started back inside.

Runa was gone, and Sigurd sat on the bed when she entered the room again. He looked weary, the events haven taken a toll on him. She slowly set down beside the man, and placed a hand on his back in hopes of aiding his battle-worn body in some way. As Runa walked back in, she stood and held still by his sword.