FORLAW / JAIL / NIGHT

''They'll come.'' spoke the fiery-haired man, named Hondscioh, with a solemn air about him.

''They will.'' answered the leader of the war-band, man known in times son of Régn.

Hondscioh stared toward the gates, waiting for a sign and he turned, squeezing Régnwald's shoulder before he walked to his corner.

- "Heva!" - A man called her by her name, catching her in last momen as her soft boots carried her off the iced path. Firm in his hands she smiled uncomfortably, well bundled in heavy furs and rough knee long tunic. Healers pink nose lost challenge against her cheeks and turned very red. 

His eyes watched her amused, man of renown, in fine armor, with golden braids falling over his shoulders. Instead of helm he had a soft cap, now sprinkled with snow. 

​Faerhild stepped down the stairs with heavy feet, halting to stand in front of the bars. She stared through them at the shadows of the jail for a long while, silent in her thoughts. Although eventually she would speak with a loud enough voice, "Could you come closer? I need a word with each of you."

Gydgar peered from his corner, "Come to hear my voice again is it?" He grinned, before reaching to one of the bars and pulling himself upright with a yawn and a rub of his hands.

The Huorn and the Woodchopper

Wynwyn swallowed as she stepped inside, her wide eyes bent on the guard who seemed awfully unfriendly by nature. She shuffled on the steps, gradually ascending them. She squinted about the dark jail, appearing more than afraid of her surroundings, ironically appearing like a captured small animal, even if she was the one who stood free.

“The deeds of men, as footprints in the snow.
Nothing under the blue sky is fated to last.