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The next day was going to be First Feast. The push for the household’s celebration of the coming of Winter was taking everyone who could cook or clean. Others were out looking for everyone’s favorite Winterberry. The bright orange fruit could only be found after it had not just frozen but snowed. The thick shell cracked and peeled back showing that they were ready.
Laun was outside with the harvesters leading the wagon as others cleared the road and trails to search for the known groves of Winterberry. The snow had stopped, but the wind drifted the snow into impossible to climb banks. In the courtyards with the slight wind protection, the snow had stopped at about waist high to Laun. Outside the main gate, there were some drifts that were over her head.
There had been people in the garden tents all night and into the day until the snow had stopped falling. There was a wall of snow outside the canvas. The sticks and brooms that had been used to pop the roof up to keep the snow from accumulating had worked. It was cold but protected in the tent.
The walkway along the wall, on the other hand, had taken most of the day to shovel out so that it could be patrolled. It would be easy to see if anyone approached. The snow, though, had made it so that the crust was only a few feet from the top of the wall. If there were inventive attackers, they could find a way to use that. »Read More