Raven's Watch fire in my bones quakes, bending but it won't break

for frost but stjor is welcome <3

She's spent much of her time caring for @Frost — the moments between, when @Stjornuati relieves her, are spent patrolling and hunting, a never-ending cycle of struggling to stay productive in both tasks. Outwardly she wears the burdens well, but the witch is exhausted. Still, she finds joy in this new life she's stumbled into; there's something comforting about having a routine to fall into.
She's in a particularly good mood when she stops to check on Frost, carrying a stoat meant to be the boy's breakfast. The trio almost feels like a makeshift family of sorts, an awkward patchwork replacement for —
No. Not there. Not today. She pushes the thought away and steps close to the entrance of the den she'd situated Frost in, dropping the stoat and calling out. I've brought you something to eat. How do you feel today? She starts, a routine greeting by now. The boy's health seems to be improving, but she won't let the matter rest any time soon. He is her charge now.

The past couple of weeks had gone by in a blur for Frost. He barely remembered the woman ushering him out from beneath the tree, and even less of their journey to wherever it was they now were. He’d drifted in and out of consciousness for the most part since, waking only to swallow a few mouthfuls of food and to stumble to a nearby stream for a few swallows of water. Even these moments he didn’t entirely remember, but he knew his belly was satisfied somewhat, much more than it had been when he was on his own at least.

When he did wake, it was usually to the woman’s or the man’s voices in his ears. They were the blurred figures he saw in those moments, their outlines fuzzy, their words barely comprehended, but their voices real in his ears. He would try to answer, and was perhaps sometimes successful, but he didn’t have many words to offer them. Not until that day.

Frost’s eyes opened slowly to gaze up at Antha as her voice coaxed him awake. He peered at her for a moment, gathering his bearings and trying to clear his thoughts. The smell of the meat helped. He stretched his muzzle towards it, sniffing eagerly. ”Im... alive...” was his quiet answer, spoken almost like a question, as though this hadn’t really occurred to him before this moment and he was intrigued by the revelation.