Cold Spells

Skuldri worked her fingers furiously. Bind, knot, bind, wrap, knot, bind. The tiny twig sigils came together, to use later in dire need. She knew it would be soon. Malkin had died days ago. She wanted to carry his corpse but the stench began to slow her down. It made her feel ill and aware of how long it had been since she had slept. Or eaten. She didn’t eat him though. She used his little furry corpse to lure a bigger feast. When the scavenging dog came by she used a spell to stun it, and slit its throat, thanking the earth for the bounty and the blessing to eat. After she had consumed her mangy street fare, and put the cooking fire out, she thought on what to do with Malkins’ corpse. She needed something of him or she could not stay in communication while he roamed the…