Wenn attempted to not laugh as Vycyllus did, and it proved very difficult as the mens’ faces looked so utterly placid as if they had not even heard her to begin with, even though her voice had been raised. After getting settled on Vycyllus’ horse most comfortably, she only managed to nod her head that she was well stationed in the saddle and clung onto the first thing that would keep her anchored in place, which happened to be one of Vycyllus’ hands that had wrapped itself around her slim frame.
His fingers were frigid for the lack of warmth that had been acquired since leaving the little town where the inn was stationed. She wrapped her small, slender hands around his in the efforts to keep them warm as they travelled at top speeds through the darkening North. Wenn attempted to see where they were going, but she lacked night vision that was good enough to see more than a few feet in front of her. She prayed wordlessly to the gods that they were not impeded by some other unknown force.
Sooner than she though, her castle was in sight. She turned slightly in the saddle to have words with Vycyllus. “That’s my home just there, do you see the watch tower?” she asked him, her voice louder than normal so that he could hear her over the pounding of hooves and the whipping winds.