The ice is thin, come on dive in

[travelerscurse]

He should have known they would turn on him in the end. Haurchefant's hospitality had been without compare and he doesn't blame the other man for what's now happening in the slightest, called back to the city proper as he had been. He blames himself-- for lingering too long, for forgetting what the nation was like outside the borders of Camp Dragonhead, for getting too comfortable. There's always a chance, of course, that his patron in these parts is going to sweep down and save him but... he thinks not. The plan was too cunning, too absolute. A hunting party to get him outside the city walls, an oncoming storm to be "lost" in. And one less of their own sacrificed to appease "the Iceheart".

Even when he knows he's lost, though, when the men turn on him like beasts, he fights. And so, the Lady's gift is a broken one-- they heal him enough that he's not in danger of succumbing to his wounds in the cold but drug him, leave him groggy and uncoordinated, tied to a stake outside of Snowcloak before they depart. He's lived here long enough to understand that he's a sacrifice and at least something of what he's a sacrifice to-- a spirit of the mountain of ice, the bringer of the storms. But he doesn't believe.

It's charming that they leave him in his cold weather gear as the storm starts to rage outside the small cave of ice, wish to make sure it's neither the elements nor his wounds that kill him. He expects to starve to death, instead, though perhaps if the beasts of this area stay away from him long enough for the drugs to wear off, he might be able to free his hands, escape this place. Still, he knows better than to count on that, even half-delirious.

When he first sees her, he thinks it's the drugs, that he's hallucinating, and so he only stares at first, leans his head lazily back against the pole he's tied to.