Having previously ridden at the front of their group, Leofholm slows his horse down a little to let the cart pass him and bring himself to the side of Ethelweard, silently gesturing for him to slow down as well.
Ethelweard rides up close, stopping near the healer as the man gestures.
Faerhild sits on the cart, having wrapped her form from head to toes in whatever furs and cloaks could be spared. She lets out a fit of ill coughs into her gloved fist, appearing still pale and sickly. Only her nose had gained some red for the freezing winds, and all in all, it was one of the few parts visible of her - aside for her blue eyes which followed the healer as he stalled.
Yrminas lazily sits in the saddle while chewing on some jerky. Aesche, his steed, simply carrying him along on his powerful frame with such casualty that he didn't even seem to notice his rider.
Leofholm says, 'I did not forget who they said you are when I entered that house. You know what awaits you should they find out you are one of Regnwald's men?'
Ethelweard cringes some at the man's warning. He soon nods, "Aye. I accept my fate as a Wolf's Head. As we get to the gate, I'll turn my weapon over."
Leofholm says, 'That will not undo what has already been done. They will arrest you, I assume.'
Ethelweard nods, "Aye."
Faerhild stares at the men, although she can not hear their words through the wool that covers her ears and from below the clatter of the hooves and the howling wind. As their lips move with unreachable words, dark thoughts fill her mind. She turns her head to look ahead the road. In the horizon laid distant gray silhouette of the town of Forlaw.
Leofholm says, 'I do not blame you for the actions of the man you follow. You know there is another option, one I deem best for this town and our people.'
Ethelweard nods, "Do you think the Reeve would accept it."
Leofholm says, 'If you decide to go this way, I will speak in your favour. Times are dire, and strong arms needed.'
Ethelweard says, 'Then I will swear an oath to the Reeve, if he shall accept it.'
Leofholm nods approvingly, his eyes going to Forlaw ahead of them.
Faerhild looks down at Eorcan who sleeps in the cart beside her. She outreaches her hand weakly, grunting in pain as she leans in to nudge a corner of the man's wools to cover his throat better.
Leofholm says, 'Good. I have no doubt the Reeve will recognise the need to be merciful in these dire times.'
Faerhild speaks down at her unconscious Kinsman, 'We....are close...Soon...you will be embraced by a warmth of a...hearth.'
