So... You Live Here?

Daciana was not known for her kindness, but for her ability to live among wolves, and to make decisions to protect the people of her settlement. But... sometimes the best decision was kindness; and that was what she'd decided when the wolves had led her to Alistair.

He'd been absolutely filthy, starved, injured. She'd determined he had something... something that felt familiar to her. Or perhaps it was simply the way the wolf spirits had rallied around the injured man. She was certain he believed he'd been hallucinating.

He wasn't a bad houseguest, albeit he needed more care than expected. She didn't know his full story, she didn't care to ask after it. It didn't matter to her if he was an escaped slave, she didn't believe in slavery. It didn't matter to her anything of his past; only of his present.

She'd just finished feeding the wolves the raw meat scraps from todays hunt. There was a stew simmering in a large cauldron, and there was time yet until dinner would be ready. So she went to check on her houseguest, pausing just inside the door to study him.

He stammered her name and flushed, and she frowned at him. Do you have a fever again? Daciana moved across the room, attempting to rest her hand against his forehead. It'll be too cold outside. I'll help bring water in, and we can heat it up over the fire. A separate fire was set up in one corner of the home, to heat bathwater.