Dragoncrest Cliffs i’m hoping that after this fever i’ll survive

Quick as the wind, Njord ran with Meerkat from one landmark to the next. Her intensity and focus rivaled her husband’s, who had eyes only for the dugout in the distance.

He looked around the snow-covered meadow. Quiet, except for the sound of their fast breaths.

“Aye, a few at least,” who had been stooped over the stranger? The memory was blurry, at best. “Erzulie, Etienne… Chacal…” his nose wrinkled, the tip of his fangs poked out from under raised lips.

“We argued,” he states pointedly without elaboration. “She invites danger onto us by permittin’ that woman onto our land,” his austere tone is licked with snarls. It was Njord’s belief that they were in imminent danger. He felt death on his skin. In his bones.

Abruptly, he turned to Meerkat.

“Mo chride,” he would squeeze her wrists tightly if she had them. “Ye must make me a promise. If any danger comes ye must take tha boys an’ go.” Only then does he feel her shiver.