Erika murmured. She was shivering and pale, and Lotta hated the way her cheeks looked pinched with cold under her hat. The two girls moved into the shelter of the trees, away from the rushing sound of the river and sat down, huddled together. Karl trotted over and nestled against Lotta’s side, his head in her lap. Flower watched from a few paces away as the two girls slowly nibbled some of the dried meat they had brought with them. Then at last she came over to join them, lying down next to Erika, who leaned against her, grateful for her warmth. A few hours later, Lotta woke up with a start, disturbed by a rustling in the trees. She sat up quickly, but it seemed to be only a red squirrel, peering down at her from the branches, his tufted ears twitching. Lotta took a deep breath, and then shifted uncomfortably in her damp gakti. She still felt cold, but better than before, less shaky and scared. It was getting dark now – not very, but the light was starting to seep away, and the shadows of the trees were lengthening.
