Salvar was unforgiving even during the warmer months.

But it was all but uninhabitable in the midst of the winter chill. Leather back at my hip, cloak on my shoulders, I had temporarily found respite inside a store occupying a humble wooden building. Even inside, the cold seemed to cling to the wool and fur on my shoulders like some kind of sickness. Still, the relief from the wind and snow was palpable as I had purchased the last few things I needed for the month. It was all too soon when I had once more faced the bitter cold. Although now with the supplies I needed, the journey back home felt--

"There she is!"

Yanked from my thoughts, I glanced up to see a figure hurrying through the snow towards me. I gasped, my heart racing in my chest as I pulled my hood up and turned around, hoping to find anoth--

A squeal of surprise erupted from my lips as I just about ran into another figure, wearing a similar tunic and cloak to the first, who'd come up behind me. Stumbling back, I whimpered, desperately scrambling back to my feet as the cold was temporarily forgotten in place of pure, unadulterated panic. Instinct drove me as I turned from the two and ran into the first opening I saw - a small alley between a few of the wooden buildings.

Behind me came shouting, accompanied by the stamping of boots in snow.

Oh no,

Before me, the alley came to an abrupt halt, a wooden wall reaching up 10ft high. Desperate, I spun on my heel, turning as I pressed myself back against the wood.

"Why you runnin, little lamb?" The first of the figures sneered, as three others closed in behind him.

Another of them spoke up,

"Almost like you're guilty, eh?"

"Guilty of what?!" I cried, my heart racing as my throat burned, the freezing air pushed out of my lungs in ragged puffs of steam.

"Witchcraft," the first answered, "you think we ain't noticed?"

My jaw clenched, my heart sinking as my cheeks grew hot and my mind raced. But... I'd been so careful, how could they possibly know?

"Y-you're making a mistake..." I stammered, my words undercut by trembling fear.

"Is that so?" The first closed the distance between us, his lackeys following suit, "so, you're not a filthy little whore-witch, then? So you wouldn't mind us taking you to the church to get them to confirm that, eh? Is that so?"

I swallowed, pushing myself back further against the wall,

"P-please," I winced, "just let me go, I'm not a witch!"

The figure, close enough now for me to smell the mead on his breath, leaned over me, placing a hand on the wall behind me, effectively pinning me in place.

"Sounds like something a witch would say," he turned his face to the others, "right boys?"