It was cold, but the cold was nothing to Felixa. Nor was the dark. Her posture, if anything, grew better so as to minimize any soreness from her night out into the forest. She knew how to take care of herself, and though lacking a blanket, Felixa felt warm, with Patience there. Still, she was not tied to being in that place, to sitting right where she had while talking about him and that summer.
The witch looked down as Patience became unsettled. If Patience, as a wolf, wanted to run or go somewhere else, Felixa would go with her. She had said she would. And the wandmaker did still need to gather the hairs. The task had not been truly forgotten, but it wasn't as important as what she had talked about earlier. Getting down from the rock, Felixa looked down at her friend. "Lead the way," she told her.