Her son, Odin, wanted to comfort his grieving mother. Such sorrow had affected these families, but they still found solace in their arms amongst themselves.
Home, they felt in this inn, temporarily maybe. Hopefully, until things had settled back in Spain. The front door opened when a customer entered.
A familiar Dwarven man, whom Cloette saw, with his noticeably braided beard ornate with various flowers. He grumbled, looking at the hug pile, and coughed a bit.
"Ahem, Hana. I brought today's meat," said the giant dwarven man, lugging a stag with antlers of pure white.
Hana broke away from the hug as the rest dispersed. The giantess Dwarven walked over, shocked about what was brought to her home with the dead creature, laid on her table. Annette peered from behind Hana.
"What's wrong Hana? Oh, oh, dear. No...no.." gasped Annette when she witnessed the near-dead stag.
"Tyrian, why did you kill this one? Why not a goat?! Out of all the animals in the Valley and the mountains! But a fucking stag.. a literal symbol of your balls being able to fucking work you useless Dwarf!!" yelled Hana as she threw a chair.
Tyrian dodged the chair shocked by Hana's reaction. He wasn't the smartest, but he intended to do his job as a hunter of the Valley.
He fell back and saw the stag was barely breathing from the wounds it had endured during the trek back to the inn. Liquid gold flowed from the openings, which had caught Annette's attention.
It piqued her interest, so she quickly grabbed a small bowl and collected a cup of golden blood. It frightened Cloette, but as always, a child of her mental growth made her more curious, and looked at Hana.
"Is the pretty deer hurt?" asked the child.
Hana looked down at Cloette in silent frustration and replied, "Yes little one, but the magic to heal. It will take time for it to get back to normal. Tyrian, we need to hide this from the village and repair the damage that YOU caused to disturb the balance of Britannia."
She picked up the stag and observed the injury, it was a diagonal slash across the neck to chest, most likely caused by Tyrian's axe. But Cloette put her hand on the stag's head and felt a high fever, so she brought handfuls of snow inside.
She returned to the inn, placing a small pile of snow on the stag's head. Glowing from the magic, it flowed through the snow-covered fur into the wound, stopping the bleeding and sealing it.
The dwarf couldn't believe what the dhampir had done but saw that Cloette struggled to breathe. Annette also noticed the sudden shift in her daughter's breath and took Cloette from the kitchen to the pantry.
Cloette then felt a twinge on her chest and from the side, her profile looked like a long line that was protruding, like an open flesh wound. The worried mother looked under her daughter's shirt, revealing a scar similar to the one on the stag had sustained from the hunter.
Despite being able to breathe, the stag could not move because of the exhaustion it had endured from the earlier attack. But as the last part of the snow melted across its face, the wound completely closed.
Tyrian's expression was stone-cold, fueled by a silent anger that spoke profoundly more than they could put together than words in tongues. The dwarven giant's nostrils flared but exhaled softly, his eyes looked at Hana as if it was a stare-down of dominance.
Both of the dwarves exhorted the heat. Their energies made the kitchen hotter as if they were inside a furnace in a smithy.
The ends of their hair started burning off from their beards with every exhalation they made from their orifices. Steam rose from the top of their heads and skin became glowing red like hot glass.
Cloette and Odin were both worried about the tension between them. So Odin whispered something in Cloette's ear, and she nodded in agreement.
Both children returned to the kitchen with glasses of milk in each hand with a piece of cheese. Odin limped over to his mother and tugged on her tunic.
With his attempts to get his mother's attention, she looked at Odin offering a cup of yak milk. Odin's expressions were through the emotions of worry and comfort.
Hana's skin then reverted to its normal skin tone and she knelt at her child's level. It befuddled Tyrian how the boy made peace with the Dwarven woman and saw Cloette do the same to him. But he swatted the air, rejecting the peace offering.
"You better get yer boy some manners. Some young uns should not involve themselves in grown bidnesses. Odin must learn how to be a man soon or else," muttered the irate Tyrian.
When Tyrian left, his cloak covered his broad shoulders, revealing a hook where his left hand was. The hook was made of black iron, with a wooden handle at the end with bolts and blood that ran down his arm.
Cloette only saw how cool it was. But it saddened Odin to witness a glimpse of a wound that Tyrian had sustained. Tyrian slammed the door shut, shaking the inn's floors, chandeliers, and other pieces of furniture.
Annette helped the stag rest in the back but arrived confused about what had happened. She arrived as though she was at the wrong period and noticed Cloette holding a glass of milk.
"Thank you for trying mi hija. Pero a veces, people need time for themselves to help themselves first," said Annette, as she patted gently her daughter's head.
Annette grabbed the cup of milk. She drank it with a sigh of satisfaction after finishing. She then sliced the cheese in half and shared it with Cloette.
Although the little girl partook in the cheese a bit, she looked over how much Odin had helped his mother. But she was content with herself that she tried to help someone as she ate more of the cheese.
The dairy product's saltiness, richness, and denseness made her feel slightly better. Since then, the rest of the day went forward to a bright afternoon.
They put out the fires from the lanterns and lamps to enjoy the few hours of the day they had left to enjoy themselves. With the echoes of children screaming and cheering for the sun's first appearance.
Old couples would sit by the windowsills or their porches looking towards the center of the Valley. What may come, could be a price for magic and the natural world becoming slightly altered.