"Good evening," Cathal greeted calmly as the bell to the shop sounded and a little flurry of snow entered.

It was nearly ten and Cathal was expecting his usual visitors: burghers who had gone to the pubs and needed to sober up with the worldly news before returning to their wives. Yet, that was not at all the sight he was met with.

"Oh, dear, let me take that from you," Cathal quickly abandoned the map he had been drawing upon to take the young lady's cloak, "You look positively frozen."