The camp was eerily quiet in the aftermath of Luke's arrival. The woods rustled with the winter breeze. The storm had thickened, and heavy white snowflakes drifted through the branches. Fable paced around us, his paws crunching in the frozen carpet of leaves.
"We should get back," I said.
"Not in your condition," Luke replied.
"I-I'm fine. Really."
He just stroked my hair. I lowered my head, letting him.
"I think I saw a village a mile or so from here. Do you think you can travel alright?" he finally asked.
I shook my head, shivering slightly. I didn't have the heart to lie anymore.
"Alright, Fable, that's enough pacing," Luke said, carefully lifting me in his arms. Fable came over, and Luke flew up to his back, carefully easing me into his fur.
"You're not leaving me, are you?"
He smiled gently, sitting down behind me, and then pulling me into his lap. His arms circled me, his aura a blanket against the cold.
