The cabin door creaked open, and Taryn stepped inside, shaking frost from her boots. A rush of cold followed her, making the flames in the hearth flicker. She let the door thud shut behind her, sealing the bitter night outside.
"Tracks near the stream," she said, brushing snow off her shoulders and hanging her cloak on one of the hooks near the door. "Could be a larger animal. Could be worse."
Kah'el -who had taken it upon himself to sharpen everyone's weapons- sat at the table, methodically working a blade. His hands moved with practiced precision, the scrape of metal against stone filling the room. He paused, his gaze flicking toward Taryn, before returning to his work without a word.
