Two Rivers Isle What if the Storm Ends

Winter wind howled across the landscape, whipping Ulrich's fur, but he did not move. He had settled once more into the role of a soldier, whose job it was was to do whatever needed doing. And the more he shifted and moved around, the less likely it was that the stoat would leave its den. It must think itself safe before it ventured out. So he did not move, even as the cold and the stillness stiffened his joints and seeped into his bones.

And finally, after nearly an hour, he saw the white head of the stoat appear. It gave a tentative sniff of the air, but did not turn in his direction. The blood of the rabbit must have been masking his scent. It darted from its den quickly, its long, sinuous body scampering towards the nearest bit of meat. He waited and let it eat, and when it moved on, he followed behind at a distance...