This made handling him much easier, and Sif was pleased. The rest of the fall passed without incident; there was a wedding at the beginning of winter, one of the returning men to a woman who had become round with child. For four days and four nights there was food, drinking, and ceremony. Sif had learned to dance, so he joined in, flouncing around the bonfires with them. Paper effigies of the bride and groom were thrown around, and they were given gifts from each house in the same fashion Sif received tribute. Sif was somewhat pleased to see that they were given a kitten; it mewed as the bride held it up and exclaimed how pretty a cat it would make.

In the weeks after, Sif returned to his habit of lounging in front of the fire; he didn't even want to attempt to learn liking snow again. It just melted down into water anyway; yet another reason to revile it.

" Lady Hélna hasn't done much wandering lately," Rágn commented, walking by, bundled in heavy clothes.

" She's a god of the land, so of course she uses the winter to rest, same as the trees," the old woman explained, just a little righteous.

Sif, interested in why they were going out but not wanting it to appear so, turned his head a little to watch as they stood at the door.

" Be safe as you hunt?" the old woman said, patting his coat.

" Aye, grandmother," he said.

" Just because Lady Hélna has saved you one time doesn't mean she can fly across the valley to save you another," the old woman lectured.

" Aye, grandmother," he said, and opened the door. " I'll be off."

Curiosity satisfied as to his purpose, Sif turned his head back to the fire and took a nap.

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