Chapter 41 The Binding Oath

• The crisp winter air bites at my cheeks as I stand outside, arms crossed tightly over my chest in a futile attempt to ward off the cold. My breath clouds before me, a visible evidence of the biting chill that numbs my nose and face. Despite the warmth of my thick white sweater, gloves, and sturdy boots, the thin fabric of my jeans does little to shield me from the unforgiving breeze.
• I really wish Efrem didn't feel the need to be so damn cryptic all the time.
• I shift my weight from foot to foot, thinking to myself.