It was not a comfortable position to fall asleep in. I woke with a crick in my neck and soot in my mouth, clutching the sword like a child with a doll. Real sunlight glowed against the curtains, and for a moment I had no idea where I was or what I was doing.

The horse.

I wiped the drool from my chin and my hand came away black with ash from where my cheek had rested. There had been wolves, and that meant that I had to check on the horse, because barn doors were also made of wood.

I hesitated, then decided to keep the sword with me, however foolish it might look to my sisters when they woke. I rebuilt the fire, grabbed the water bucket, and shrugged into my winter clothing.

Several feet of snow fell inward as I opened the door. I swore under my breath and kicked the worst of it back out, then shut the traitorous door behind me and turned to face the yard.

The sun was a pink stain on the horizon, and the edges of the forest were still soft and gray. Everything else was white. The barn was blasted with snow, and the well was a vague lump in the center of the yard. I put one foot in front of the other and forced my way through the drifts to the big barn doors. They were still shut, which seemed promising, and the dread lifted its hold on me until I remembered the dead wolf on the other side. I gripped the cold hilt of the sword, shouldered open the door, and slipped into the musty darkness.

It smelled like hay and living, breathing horse. I scooped some grain into his bucket and broke the ice on the trough, forking some more hay into the rack. Satisfied that all was well, I allowed myself to run past the sledge without looking and escape back into the morning.

A white shape moved against the trees.

The sword hung heavy in my hands, and my mouth dried as the wolf stared back at me. I thought about ducking back into the barn, but if my sisters found me missing they would come looking for me and then this wolf might go after them instead, not that wolves often attacked humans, but— the wolf turned tail and loped away, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

I waited for several long minutes before making my way to the well. Scraping the snow off the lid required that I take my attention away from the tree line, which sent the hairs on the back of my neck into a state of intense alarm. I hauled the water up so quickly that half of it spilled, and I had to lower it again, this time taking long, deep breaths to still my shaking hands.