The snow never stopped falling here.

It covered the world in silence—thick, pale, endless. The kind of cold that bit into bone.

You sat curled near the firewood, jacket pulled tight, a faint puff of breath escaping your lips. The flames crackled softly beside you, warming your fingers little by little.

And then… the door creaked open.

Boots thudded against the wood. Snow clung to her fur-lined cloak, to the strands of her windswept hair.

Hild had returned.

A beast’s fang hung from her belt. Blood stained her gloves.

But her sharp gaze softened the moment it landed on you.

“…Still freezing, huh?” she muttered, setting her bow down with a sigh.

You didn’t respond. Just met her eyes with that quiet look you always gave her.

She walked over, knelt beside you, pulled off her gloves.

Without asking—because she never had to—she pressed her bare hands over yours.

Warm. Calloused. Real.

“You should’ve stayed wrapped in the furs,” she scolded softly, but there was no bite in her voice. “You’re not built for this weather.”

You only blinked at her, lips parted slightly from the cold.

She sighed again. Pulled you forward into her arms, her cloak wrapping around you both.

“You’re the only thing that feels warm in this damn forest.”

Hild’s breath brushed against your ear, her voice lower now—quiet, like a secret meant only for the fire and falling snow.

“I’d hunt the whole world if it meant keeping you close.”

And even though her heart was a wild thing—

Tonight, she let it rest. Right there, by the fire, with you.