The forest was deathly still. Creatures with good sense had fled south or burrowed into muddy banks or hollow cavities beneath old trees, to await the far-off spring. Two men stood shoulder-to-shoulder near the edge of the glade, swathed in furs while their lips exuded twin trails of steamy breath.
"I don't think she can hear," said one, a wiry fellow with a balding pate and bushy mustache.
"She can hear just fine," replied the other, who was vastly taller and more thickly constructed, with a full head of dark hair, and a beard to match.
"How do you know, Griz?"
"I know, all right?" The man called Griz rolled his shoulders, frowned, and squinted his eyes.
"Maybe she's deaf and dumb."
"She is not deaf nor dumb, Walter, you bloody idiot. Stop speaking without using your brain. She can hear everything you're saying." Griz shot a look of warning towards his companion.
Walter harumphed indignantly, then took several steps to bring himself near the figure sitting on the ground beside a small fire within a ring of stones. "Oi. Miss," he said, snapping his fingers sharply in front of her face.
The woman did not respond to the sound of Walter's voice, but the snapping fingers made her blink, and she looked up at him. Her features were vaguely curious, but largely without expression.
Walter shrunk back from the sight, but then held his ground and said loudly, "You hear me? Aye?"
"Bloody hell," muttered Griz, treading up behind the other man to clap a hand on his shoulder and drag him backwards a step or two. "For pity's sake, stop it already. I didn't ask you here so you could make yourself look like a fool."
Walter glared up at his companion. "What am I here for then? Eh? You said you needed help figurin' this out, and here I am. Want me to leave, is that it?" He shrugged off the commanding hand.
"No, no," replied Griz quickly, and there was an apologetic timbre to his words. He held up both hands in a gesture of peace. "So, what is to be done then? We cannot simply abandon her here. But she will not leave willingly. I have tried."
Walter adopted a thoughtful pose. He crossed his arms and stared at the woman by the fire, who seemed to have forgotten all about the two men already. She was gazing at the writhing flames as if transfixed. "I've seen mad folk before," he said in a low voice. "Either their families take 'em in and keep 'em locked up, or they end up in the poorhouse or worse."
"She doesn't have any family," said Griz flatly, furrowing his brows.
"How do you know that?" Walter quipped, and one of his own eyebrows quirked sharply.
"I just know it."
"You're impossible, Griz," Walter grumbled, shaking his head and taking a few steps from side to side. "You and your 'I just know, I just know'." He growled out a sigh and regarded the woman again. "If she's got no family and you don't want her to end up starvin' on the Alley..." He paused and wrinkled his bulbous nose. "She won't go willingly, you said? You might could knock her out and carry her somewhere."
Griz groaned and rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. "I'd hate to do something so brutish to the poor creature," he sighed.
Walter was shrugging again. "That, or...have you tried bringin' a woman here instead?" He turned to his friend with a more hopeful look. "Maybe she'd be more willin' to follow a woman? I mean, no offense to you, my friend, but you're...well..." He waved a hand brusquely at Griz.
Griz cracked a smirk behind his thick beard. "You surprise me yet, Walter. That may not be a poor idea after all." His arms crossed, and a hand rose to tug thoughtfully on the shaggy black hair on his chin. "Either way, the snow will be here soon. Even if I bring food and blankets, she won't survive out here alone."
Walter stepped up beside the man and clapped him smartly on the back. "Best get workin' on a plan then."
