The Cost of Wounds

“I’m sorry.” Almora offered consolingly. Sympathy written over her face at Nim’s plight. Knowing that the reason she so badly wanted to get to the country was to try to save her son.

In true fashion, Nim ever offered a reassurance at the apology. Merely changing the subject.

“You were quite impressive, Dread.” Nim indicated.

“You weren’t too bad yourself.” Almora beamed at the compliment. “Summoning the cold is only bending what exists to my will." She eyed Nim. "But to entirely change shape is something else.”

“Not so much as you’d think.” Nim coughed roughly and drew a swift breath. Hand still clutched to her side.

“My beast is every bit as present as your blizzard.” She gave the fairer woman a meaningful look. “Probably more so while in the heart of Spring.”

Conjuring Winter amid late Spring was a truly remarkable feat.

“You must relax.” Almora dismissed. Gently pressing Nim’s shoulders in the crackling straw p