Find the full narrated video on Patreon!
Hertha still remembered the cold, it bit through furs and woolen shifts, through to flesh and creeping into the bones, and she had been so frightened that her child should not live, that this treacherous frozen waste would swallow them both. Tears had frozen on her cheeks, though she blamed them on the wind. Her arms had gone numb, but she held firm about her swollen belly. The ghostly white of the storm made her near blind, but the cairns did no fail her, each one passed took her further form harm, closer to safety, closer to freedom and to a warm fire. The high pass and the rocky decent was well past her when she brought him forth, her hardy little man, her Haaral. In the dark green embrace of the forest he cried his first and was wrapped in clean wool and birch bark. Gently rubbed with oils against the cold that swept even down here and once she had her strength once more, the took her to the Heiduholt. They took her home.