For over a week now the weather had been too bad for the crew to go raiding anywhere. A series of gales had swept in from the sea, with sleet and freezing rain.
The old roads, which were treacherous enough in fine weather, became impassable when covered in mud and a thin layer of water which turned to slippery ice by late afternoon.
Their camp in the Kastrup Fortet seemed secure enough; nothing much triggered their motion detectors, and it was too cold and bleak for trolls or most Beasts to be moving about.
Still, Lalli was....uneasy. It wasn't anything he could define; most like a sense of something focusing attention on them from a distance. Perhaps Sigrun felt it too.
She seemed jumpy, distracted, as if she kept almost hearing something.
Sigrun, Reynir and Lalli went out most days to hunt, forage and check their snares, finding an occasional healthy rabbit or hare trapped,
and a few small rat-derived beasts which they killed quickly before their noise attracted other, larger, dangers.
They dragged reedmace rhizomes and tubers of duck's-potato from the old moat,
and harvested half-frozen sanddorn berries and seakale from the beach in the hope that Mikkel might shut up about the risk of scurvy.
But whenever their wanderings took them in the direction of the old airport, Sigrun or Lalli would soon turn the foraging party aside, without really understanding their own nervousness.
Surely they weren't close enough to wake anything?
Read the rest via the link in the description!