Patrick woke to the sound of the wind howling through the ropes of the tent. He could see his breath in the air. Justine was curled up against him. He got up and gently tucked the blanket around her. He dug around in the bag until he found his sweater. He thought about putting it on, then wrapped it around her too.
Marisha had a tiny fire going in a corner of the tent. The smoke that refused to go out the gap between wall and ceiling stung his eyes, but the warmth of the tea was welcome.
"Morning, Patrick," Davvad said. "I fear that if the army doesn't destroy us, that this weather will. Most of my people are not prepared for such cold."
"Are such changes in weather common?"
"Not common, but not unheard of either."
They drank their tea in silence. Justine crawled out of their corner
