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[He rises in a clumsy way, stumping through the snow, brushing away the frosted blood and uncrisping his hardened apparel, and says his morning prayer to Samath that he may be merciful and give him swift feet today.

“...And Lord Samath,” he whispers, feeling the tremble in his own lips shaking in the cold as the air penetrates his nose and lungs, “have mercy on a young hunter cast out by his fellow men. You know what it’s like, the isolation. You’re the god of fucking winter.” He laughs to the air and watches his condensed breath travel and disperse to the harsh bright winter sky. “But Samath, I don’t want to die alone.”]

Inspiration soundtrack to my NaNoWriMo novel, Wintersong.

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