He can’t decide what he hates more – mud, sand, or snow. The snow is winning, but that may be because he can’t feel any of his toes and his jaw hurts from clenching it so his teeth don’t chatter. At least he’s only sharing the tent with one other this time.

He’s got the blankets Alaryre had gifted him in the Fallow Mire, and he hopes they’re enough to ward off the cold. As it is, he’s bundled up in everything he’s got. An fed up face poking out of a mountain of quilts and one cloak.