Winter
Fenrir and I come to a stop outside an oak door. It’s large and has different leaves carved into it, and I admire it for a moment. It’s beautiful.
There’s nothing else on this floor, no other rooms to be seen, and the hallway is clear. We’re on the floor above where we sleep, a place I have never seen before. I suppose it could be classed as the upper level, but I’m not sure. Fenrir always adds things to the house, and no one bats an eyelid because he uses his powers to make people believe those things have always been there.
Fenrir brought me up here after he returned to our room. He had words with his brother about keeping his thoughts to himself. Narfi has no filter whatsoever, and it can be jarring when he speaks to me the way he does. I wear Fenrir’s mark, and even the Gods
