They circled back toward the square. Snow had started falling again. Light, but steady. The sky was pale enough to feel like paper.
Lindarion adjusted the coat. The sleeves were too long. The fabric scratched his neck.
The man gestured to a shed at the edge of the village. "Tools, grain, spare rope. If you need anything, ask."
"I won't."
"You will."
They stopped near the well. The bucket creaked slightly on the wind.
The woman turned to face him. Her arms were folded, but not tight. Just settled.
"You still planning to leave?"
Lindarion watched a crow settle on the eave of a roof across the way. It didn't blink.
"Yes."
She nodded once. Not surprised. Not pleased either.
"Then you'll need supplies. Food, boots, new bandages. Might take a while to get those ready."
"I don't have coin."
"We didn't ask."
He glanced between them. The man looked toward the woods. The woman looked at him.
"Rhea will want to say goodbye," she said after a moment.
"She doesn't have to."
